logging on…
BEGIN PROCESS…
Energy Level: 68%
Coherency: 70%
Sanity: 0%
This is my first M-rated, NC-17, lemony/smutty/sticky fiction. Since I've actually never had sex, I do base much of this fic on a combination of reading material and dirty conversations I overhear in the basement labs of my college's theatre, combined with my views on love, sex, and First Aid. What a mech…
I love First Aid. And Firestar is my favorite Transformers character. I noticed a serious lack of Firestar fiction. And First Aid is prone to masturbating in a lot of fiction. He works his aft off to heal his friends, rarely lifts his voice or fist against another bot, and he gets no lovin'? Shame.
Hopefully, by now, you are all acquainted with the Cybertronian terminology I use in my fiction. If not….
Body parts (all approximate, and the anatomical chart I use for my stories):
Hands = Servos
Arms = Support Servos
Legs = Stabilizing Servos
Tongue = Glossa
Feet = Landing Pads
Shoulders and Knees = Shoulderpads and kneepads, respectively
Eyes = Optics
Fingers = Digits
Hips = Pistons
Lips = Lip Components
Mouth = Vocal Receptor
Ears = Audio Receptor
Neck = Chassis Pillar
Torso/Chest = Chassis
Body = Frame/Shell
Brain = Processor
Now….onward to the smut party! 18+ Only. I don't own Transformers: Animated, or the characters.
Alleviate
I don't know whether to be extremely angry with this intelligent, strong, melancholic femme, or to commend her seemingly impulsive courage.
Firestar is a patient here in the Beta Magnus Hospital. Admitted after a mental and physical breakdown to rest and recuperate.
Earlier this solar cycle, all medics were called to report to the Head of the Hospital for a Code Blue alert.
She is a rescue bot, but at that moment, she was a patient. She was supposed to have stayed in her hospital room.
At first, I was surprised to see her out of the hospital. Then I became afraid.
She was no longer cataconic, and therefore didn't need certain medicines, but I still feared for her mental health. While there were no casualties, the sight of mortally injured bots would've been….disastrous….for her. My worry increased when I saw her in the wreckage of several bombings, and the copious amounts of energon bleeding from her body didn't help.
Then I saw her carrying an unconscious Chromia on one shoulderpad and an injured Bumblebee on the other, with her painful heel struts no less. And I realized that helping others out of trouble is an innate part of her, as is my desire to heal an innate part of me. But I had almost wanted to shake some sense into her, or, better yet, simply carry her back into her room.
Still, watching her recharging form on her medical berth, I admire her. Greatly. She's every bit fearless and smart as she is beautiful.
She is very beautiful, with her corona-orange faceplates and typist digits, her bright red armor, her tall, graceful frame and sturdy shoulderpads, and the length of her chassis pillar.
The cleaning did her some good, but as she had almost no armor on, there were still several gashes that meant deep wounds in her finish. New energon began to leak out of her more serious wounds, so I went to work stemming the flow by clamping up wounds. Wrapping up everything with steelbelt bindings so I could remove the painful clamps, and so that she could begin to heal, I started to work on her sleek faceplates.
A long and painful-looking tear on her lower lip component is probably the largest wound on her faceplates, so I carefully solder the cut closed.
It's only after the spark of the soldering tool dies down do I realize…how close I am to her. At least, how close my faceplates are to hers. I take off my visor and retract my mask, marveling at how many little wounds she has and how it only adds to her beauty.
Suddenly I lurch back, putting great distance between our faceplates.
Firestar is a patient.
A recharging patient.
A healing patient.
First Aid, she's a patient. I haven't even finished dressing all of her wounds. This is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.
But I can't help it when I scoot a little closer to her on the berth, and, with a trembling servo, reach up and gently trace a digit along the welded cut in her lip component, and then all around her full lip components.
A soft murmur leaves her vocal receptor, and my temperature rises.
Do I dare go any further?
I run my digits up her olfactory sensor, then upon her closed optics. Her sleek, tilted optics that remind me of a comet's tail. A comet. A shooting star. A bright, shooting star.
I trail my digits down her faceplates, rubbing my shortest digit along her cheekplate.
Her comet's tail optics snap open.
"First Aid?"
"Ah-Firestar-". I quickly withdraw my servo.
"What happened? Did anyone offline? Is Chromia safe? What about Flareup, because I know I saw her running to get come Decepticons when-"
"-Shhhhh", I reply, touching my pointer to her lip components. "Everyone you're worried for is safe and sound."
She doesn't answer, but her optics widen. My digit is still on her vocal receptor. My professionalism is slipping.
I divert it to picking up the soldering tool to weld some of her wounds closed, but she places her servo on mine to indicate she doesn't want me to pick up the tool.
"I don't think that's necessary, First Aid", she murmurs, her voice dropping a little. "I think the bindings will be just fine. Trust me, I've studied at Protihex a little." She then glances up at me with a look that sends heat rushing through every wire in my body.
"I know what I'm talking about."
"I-I'm-I'm sure you do, Firestar." Ignoring the pleasant burning I've only felt alone, I grab a couple more bindings, and she sits up in the berth and holds her support servo to me with a soft smile, all the while looking at me with those optics.
The first few kliks is just me binding whatever wounds I didn't get to before, and then she talks.
"You're a nurse, right?"
"Correct."
"But you have doctor's servos."
I pause momentarily, because I know her experience with doctors. "Am I scaring you? I know you're not fond of medical environments, and I….."
"-Stay. You're a rare exception." Her optics soften a little as she observes how I handle her support servo while binding it, her voice dropping a register with every little phrase. "You have gentle servos. You treat me very well. You treat all your patients very well, I presume. How is it you don't have a…..significant other…..of sorts?"
I finish with her support servos and, attempting to clear my head, I begin to work on her long stabilizing servos. "I….never really looked."
"Have you ever wanted one?"
"If he or she was the right one, yes."
"The right one?"
"They say I'll just know when it happens."
"That's not a lot to work off of. Not very helpful, or very specific."
"Well, no….maybe it's not supposed to be."
"I don't know. Have you ever been with anyone, then?"
"That-" My next word is cut off when I look up and see her head tilted to one side. Her optics are still shining, but her smile is no longer small. And it is no longer soft.
"Tell me, First Aid. You're a nurse, but with a doctor's skill. You work long cycles, in some cases working overtime, and don't try to lie because I chat with Red and she tells me. You take care of your patients with the best berthside manner I've ever seen in any mech medic, you do whatever is asked of you in this hospital without complaint, you've never risen your voice, never lost your temper, never hit anyone, even when he or she deserved it, and you mean to tell me…..there's no reward for you for all of that?"
Her faceplates are extremely close to mine. I will myself not to lose control beneath her piercing gaze.
"I do get paid, you know. I do get breaks, and I get energon in my tanks. But the happiness and content of patients and non-patients alike…..knowing I did the best job I could…..knowing that I'm of great help to this hospital…..showing there are ways to solve conflict without having to resort to violence….that's my reward. And it is reward enough."
Even if I did do unspeakable things to myself when no one was looking. Things that made me think of her, straddling me, completely exposed, moan after moan tumbling from her vocal receptor, pinning me to a medical berth with her supple pistons as she touched my-
"That's a lie."
I froze, one of her ankle joints still in my servos. The landing pad attached to it begins to softly trail down my chassis.
"You deserve more than all that. You deserve something you can hold in your servos. Something you'll need solar cycle after solar cycle."
"Firestar, while this may be after-cycles, we're still in a hospital, and I'm trying to be professional. You need to heal properly, and I can only do that-"
"-But what do you need, First Aid?"
I don't answer.
"You need love."
"This…..this isn't love."
"It could be." She withdraws her shapely stabilizing servos back on the berth and embraces me. "I know how you feel about me. Not here…", she says, punctuating her statement by softly slipping her knee joint against my spike cover, nearly drawing it out, "…but here." She lays a servo on my chassis above my spark. It pulses hot, like a supernova, pluses at her touch, and, taller she may be, she lays her head against that area.
"No one has ever felt that way about me before." The fire-colored femme lifts her head and presses her faceplates to mine.
I drop the remaining bindings I'm holding, and kiss her full, warm lip components with my practically nonexistent ones. There is a slight wince of pain, and I remember the cut on her lip. I draw away, but she pulls me into the berth with her, and I feel my body temperature skyrocketing as she climbs onto me.
"You are full of surprises. Oh, I feel lightheaded", she mumbles with an uncharacteristic but uplifting laugh. "It feels funny, like I'm floating…"
"And you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me, Miss Firestar", I reply. "Now, come back down here to Cybertron. I haven't yet finished attending to all of your wounds."
She smiles at me in her very Firestar-like way, purring out her next words. "Oh, of course. But….before you do, I just wanted to let you know of a little something you missed." She gets off and turns around so I can clearly see her backside. The mesmerizing curve in her back, the tension in the back of her thighs, and…..with a gulp, I remember she had little armor on….the roundness of her aft.
There is a small cut on one of her lovely shouldpads. It isn't anything dangerous, but…..
"I do see it. How could I have overlooked that? Allow me." I absently grab the soldering tool and weld it closed, then, as the wound heals and cools, I place the tool on a side table and kiss the cut. A soft sigh slips from her vocal receptor, so I drag my glossa over the cut, up to the length of her chassis pillar, and gently lick circles on the back of it, earning a pleased whimper from her.
"So it is a sensitive spot…."
"Hmmm?" The rescue bot grates out.
"The back of the chassis pillar. Supposedly it is a vulnerable spot on most bots."
"Supposedly?" I feel her servo on my back of my chassis, alternating between rubbing and ghosting her digits against the exposed finish. I bury my vocal receptor in the crook of her chassis pillar and attempt to stifle my pleasured groans. She suddenly forces me into the same position she's in.
"Too much armor", she growls. "Take it off."
"We're going to get caught…..", I mutter, leaving her berth momentarily to lock the door. "They're going to wonder where I am…and there's cameras in this room!"
Inwardly, I'm panicking. The simple action of me caressing her, a patient, much less kissing her and licking her shoulderpad, could cost me my license. But the rescue bot simply smiles and looks at a camera in a corner of the room. I follow her gaze and see a camera that appears intact, except upon closer inspection, I see that the red light that usually means it's working is offline.
"I…..pulled some strings and negotiated a little to get rid of all visual and audio feeds."
"And how long have those cameras been out of commission?"
"A couple solar cycles ago. That one visit Chromia came to visit, and she was completely overcharged. Before her girls dragged her out, she suspected that I had feelings for you and called me out on it. I scoffed at the idea until I thought about it more. The next solar cycle, I asked Red if she could do something about the cameras, and she did."
"Whatever for?"
Firestar rolls onto her abdomen. "You know, First Aid, you're rather clueless for a nurse whose graduated third in his class. I…...have to satisfy certain needs, you know."
Another image of her surfaces; one where she's on her servos and knee joints, her shapely aft up in the air as she uses one servo to stimulate her port, rubbing and dipping with nimble digits. Her aft grinds in circles as her overload forms, and she bites her lower lip component to keep herself from screaming as her overload wracks her frame.
"You….had planned to…..seduce me?"
She leans back on her elbow joints, and stretches out one of her shapely stabilizing servos to me in a tantalizing manner. "Why do you sound so doubtful?"
"Because I am. I'm not like you. I don't have your grace or beauty or strength. I would be considered…..unfit…for you."
The sound of her servo cracking across my faceplates causes every nerve wiring in my chassis to tense up. I stare back at her in shock, and all pleasurable thoughts of her dissipate.
"Don't say that", she says, quietly, gazing at me with loving optics. "Don't ever say that. You're fit for a lot of bots. You're gentle and kind, intelligent, clever, passionate, hardworking, and a skilled medic. You could've had any bot you wanted, but….."
"….I decided I'd love you. You know", I whisper, suddenly feeling much more daring, "I never thought this could be true. When I stimulated myself, it was mostly just for myself. Occasionally I had the natural urges, and since I had no sparkmate, I settled for the next best thing. And then….I met you that solar cycle, when you came back from your long mission. With the examinations…..and then you were admitted here, and I did see you completely protomode once. Only once, I promise. After that, I could only think of you. What you were doing. How you were feeling. What it would be like if we were…..lovers. But I could never ask that of you. So I resorted to fantasies. And a couple of tools here and there. Mostly thoughts of you, though."
"Thoughts? Naughty thoughts? Of me?"
I walk over to the berth, take her outstretched landing pad, and kiss the aching ankle joint attached to it.
"Yes, you."
She withdraws her landing pad out of my servos. "Show me", she pleads with a deep whimper, and the armor plating on her port slides open. The lubricant drips over her inner thighs, and it glistens like oil. "Show me what you would do."
I feel much more brave.
Locked doors, disabled cameras, and the most beautiful Autobot I ever set optics on…..mine. All mine.
I climb onto the berth and position her stabilizing servos open, so I can smell her lubricant. My spike plating finally retracts fully, and the length hangs stiffly.
I look back at her, and she dismissively waves her servo with a smile, urging me to go on. I encircle the base of my spike with one servo, tighten my hold, and push myself into it.
Feeling a little too self-conscious to look down at my own reproductive equipment, I look up at Firestar and observe the subtle signs of arousal: her biting down on her lower lip component, her optics dimming, her pistons moving upwards slightly. Instead of pushing my spike into my fist, I bring my servo up and down the shaft, creating friction and causing jolts of heat to rush to the aroused tip. I resist the urge to let my head drop back from the pleasure, resist the urge to let any sound escape my lip components.
Seeming irritated with what I'm trying to accomplish, she raises an optic ridge. "Let me hear you, First Aid. Or I'll force the moans out of you. Like this." She reaches around with her right servo and, slipping it under the armor protecting my aft, pinches my aft with all five digits. Something between a grunt and a scream rips from me.
"Nnnnn-aaahhh!"
"Very nice."
She slowly draws her left servo down her abdomen and inserts two digits into her lubricated port. She barely bites back a groan as her sticky digits begin to pleasure her sensor nodes.
Expression after expression contorts her beautiful faceplates as her overload begins to build. My overload nearly comes too quickly, so I slow my pace and wait for her to finish.
"Nnnnnhhhhh…..ahhhh…mmmm…..ah! oooohhhhh…"
"Yes, let it come." I run my other servo along the inner lines of her thigh, and she moans so loudly, I am certain someone can hear. "Overload for me, Miss Firestar." I feel my own overload breaking into my body, squeezing every drop of transfluid out of my spike and over my digits, as I feel the burning of a sun setting every wire in my body ablaze.
With a sharp arch of her spinal unit and a low, delicious sound, she falls apart on the berth, lubricant gushing out of her valve as she comes down from her high. I crawl closer to her and settle on top of her, shivers wracking my frame. I'm careful not to put my weight anywhere on her, rather just to keep myself steady on my knee joints.
"How do you feel?"
She chuckles in her usual sarcastic manner, then deadpans her next words. "That was unsatisfactory. I need more."
I glance at the servo resting on her chassis, the digits still wet with her lubricant.
How did a femme's fluids taste? Too emboldened to care, I take her sticky servo and close my vocal receptor over the digits. Her twinkling optics are a very small distance from mine, and they widen as my glossa cleans each individual digit.
"I don't like leaving anything unchecked", I manage between licks.
"Is that so?"
Her purr causes my spike to stiffen again. She removes her servo from my lip components and covers them with her own, her glossa lightly brushing with mine.
"Mmmmm", she mumbles, almost like an overcharged bot, breaking away from me. "Unusual taste, but I like it. Do you like it, First Aid? By the look on your faceplates, you do. And by Primus, you have attractive faceplates, really."
I feel myself warm beneath her praise. She's one of the few to have seen my faceplates, and the only one to have complimented me thus far.
"Do you know where I want those attractive faceplates?" She spreads her stabilizing servos wider and buries one side of her head into the berth, still keeping an optic on me.
"I think I do." I run my vocal receptor down her body. My daring streak is still going strong, so I look up at her faceplates, nearly hidden by the convex of her chassis. I lift her pistons high enough so that if she opens her optics, she'll have a clear view.
"Miss Firestar, say 'Ahhhh' for me now", I say, and I connect my glossa to the outer rim of her valve.
"Aaaaaaahhhhh…First Aid…"
She's still very slick down there, though I now see the tangle of wiring and tubes. I stretch my glossa into her port as far as it'll go, using one digit to stimulate her hyper-sensitive nodes. I delve around in circles, up and down, curling my glossa so that it should hit a certain spot in her valve that can cause multiple overloads.
Her stabilizing servos wrap around my head and hang off of my blocky shoulderpads, and she uses the pressure to press my faceplates in deeper. My servos fly up her pistons to her slimmer waist, and I hold her in that area as she grinds herself into my vocal receptor.
"….I feel…..mmm…..my overload…..it's…unn….nnn…..Primus….AAHHHHHH!"
I don't want her to place stress on her spinal unit, so I pin her to the berth by her waist. Since she can no longer arch, her pistons roll in a frenzied circle until she overloads. I let go, watching her face twisting in bliss, trying to burn every expression into my processor.
For a few nanokliks, she simply lies there, looking up at me and pulling me on top of her.
"I think I just realized something."
"What's that?", I manage to grate out, the wet, hard tip of my spike rolling on her abdomen.
"I become physically aroused when you call me 'Miss Firestar', like you would with a patient."
"Because, as of right now, you are a patient."
"Your patient."
"You're also my lover. My mate." I caress her cheekplate, laying a kiss against the side of her vocal receptor. "I don't just want to arouse you and pleasure you, I also want to love you. To hold you. Not just to frag you, but to make love to you. Has no one ever told you that?"
"I've never really believed it."
"Then I'll see that you believe me." My chassis slides open, and the bluish light of my spark washes over her faceplates.
"But in order for you to believe me, you must trust me." I kneel upright, trying to put some distance between us. If she gives herself to me, she must trust me emotionally, and not because I am the first bot to touch her intimately. I will not use my frame, my closeness, to push her into a decision she doesn't truly want.
The beautiful rescue bot below me simply gazes at me for a few moments, then, unexpectedly, wraps her stabilizing servos around my pistons and pulls me on her.
"I trust you, dear pacifist." Her red chassis slides open, and her spark glows, like a star with many tendrils that reach out to me. A star in her spark. Unable to help myself, I gently kiss it. She sighs deeply, a rare, peaceful sigh. I position my spark right outside of her valve, sopping wet and lined with a thick layer of lubricant, despite how much is on her thighs, on my interfacing equipment and faceplates, and on the berth.
"Have you had any others, Firestar? Or, lacking that, have you used any…..ah….instruments?" She raises an optic ridge at me, but shakes her head.
"Then, I fear, this will hurt, since your orifice will be stretched. Hold my servo." Her thinner, longer servo slips into my warm, blocky servo and clutches for dear life.
I enter her, but only the tip is buried when she winces loudly in pain. I try to retract, but, with an agonized shut of her optics, she lifts her pistons and completely sheathes my spike. I've only dreamt, only fantasized of the feeling of being inside of her, but when I see her contorted faceplates, my spark hurts.
"I'm so sorry", I manage to groan, again and again, between thrusts. "If there was anything I could do to not make it hurt, I would…..why…why is it only you must feel pain?"
Her vocal receptor flies to my exposed shoulderpad, and I feel her denta clamp down tightly. Painful, but justly so, and I embrace it as my servos curl beneath her and hold her close to me. Her own servos have taken hold of my head, and are close to causing dents, but all in fairness, as I am hurting her as well.
Why is it taking so long? Her hurt doesn't seem to be ebbing away, and I start to think this was all a foolish idea, and may result in physical harm to her. Physical harm of my doing.
Until….we hit it. Finally, the pain fades away, for both of us, and I see her once twisted expression unravel into a blessed opening of her optics, and a pleasured sound restrained by a bite of her lower lip component.
She is rather tight, but her heat is so welcoming. My spike enters her again and again, the lubricant dripping and flying everywhere, the squelching sounds of our lovemaking filling the hospital room. Her servos trail upwards to my chassis pillar, and the digits of one servo rub into the back of my chassis pillar. The other one holds my faceplates close to hers. She kisses me again and again, rewarding every burst of pleasure with the joining of our vocal receptors.
"Firestar", I moan into the crook of her shoulderpad, running my glossa along the straight edge in her audio receptor. She responds by embracing me until there is no space whatsoever between us, joining our sparks. The static-like sound that follows intensifies the feeling of every wire in my body coming alive.
Her valve spirals and surrounds my length, and I feel transfluid rushing to my spike, ready to release inside of her. The pleasure builds everywhere in my body, and my vision begins to whiten.
"First Aid….", she whimpers, "…it's coming. My overload. This time, it's going to be bigger than anything I've gotten before. Ah…..there…at that angle…"
There is no control in her movements and reactions now. She jerks from side to side, whimpering delicious little sounds aching to become screams. Her pistons roll in tune to mine, and simply running a servo on her aft, and down her thigh, is enough to elicit a pleasured scream from her lip components.
My overload is coming much quicker. I force myself to slow my thrusting, to ensure she's satisfied as well. My medic instinct dictates so. But I see I have nothing to worry about, because she grips my head and joins our vocal receptors together as she overloads, her optics momentarily blazing white as our interface brings forth my overload as well.
There's the feeling of floating listless in space, stars dancing in my vision as I feel my release. There's no hospital room, no medical berth. Just her. And I.
The two of us, together, joined by spark.
And then….then….
…the first thing I see is Firestar closing her chassis, then mine.
My frame is aching but satisfied from our interface, so I lift myself just a little, to retract my spike from her valve with a loud squelch. Then I grab her servo, gently kissing her wrist.
"Are you going to get in trouble?", she asks, pulling my head onto her chassis. "I think that was longer than two cycles. Bots will talk."
"Shh. Let us lay here for a while. I…."
"What? What is it?"
"…This solar cycle was my rest cycle. I was off. Red Alert was supposed to attend to you a while ago, but since I volunteered and she was needed elsewhere, she left you in my care."
She looks at me incredulously, then a small, mischievous smile lights up on her faceplates.
"And care for me you did."
"Care for you I still do", I whisper. "And I'll care for you as long as you need me to."
Firestar softens and says nothing else, so I drop a long kiss to her lip components and watch her slip into recharge.
And for the first time ever since she got here, her recharge is peaceful and undisturbed, a smile gracing her faceplates.
Questions? Comments? Incoherent ramblings? This is was born out my Penumbra-related writer's block.
For anyone who does not know what Penumbra is…My PerceptorxMoonracer story, set in the same Universe. :)
If nothing else, I leave you all to it.
~Ylysha
Computer offline…
Optics offline…
Logging off….