NOTE: First off, this fic is based in the Wings of Honor Universe. If you don't know who Lyzack is, check TFWiki. Second off, I blame this on a conversation I had with i-lurv-akatsuki on dA. Check her out!

Onto the naughtiness.

Blast Off glanced throughout the med bay. His brothers had been repaired since their battle with the Elite Guard, but he still needed some repairs to his legs so that Bruticus could be formed. When Deathsaurus had accepted the shuttle into his ranks, Blast Off had asked for his own private medic. However, he had yet to meet the one who would care for him.

It was to his surprise when a tall, thin femme entered the room. He had seen her once before, when the emperor had offered the Combaticons a place in his ranks.

"I'm Blast Off. Who might you be?" the brown robot queried, a frown showing due to the removal of his facemask.

"I am Lyzack," the blue and white jet replied curtly.

"I thought you were Deathsaurus' assistant," the limb replied.

"A femme can have other jobs!" she pouted. "Besides, the medic you were going to have was injured during field duty, so as I was the best medic around after him, the emperor sent me."

"I'm sorry. I had no intention of offending you. I'm a former Tower, and Tower femmes are a bit more, well, maid-like."

"Well, I wasn't Tower-born," she replied bitterly. However, when she saw the apologizing look on his face, she asked softly, "Where are the injuries?"

"My legs. They suffered a blast from one of…Roadfire's men, I believe."

"Allow me to check. Tell me if you feel pain." Lyzack began to feel up and down her companion's leg, squeezing at random intervals. Several times Blast Off told her it hurt, but his mind was on other things.

For example, Blast Off could feel his spike starting to harden behind his codpiece. He was surprised with how suggestive Lyzack's maneuvers were, yet she herself did not realize it. This must be how medics act outside of the Towers, he thought. No respect for personal space. Despite these nuisances, he felt pleased.

"Do you, ah, mind if I check inside your codpiece?" Lyzack blushed, cutting into Blast Off's thoughts. He agreed, himself blushing, yet giving off a small, embarrassed smile. She unchecked his latch piece, blushed some more, then proceeded to do the same thing she had been doing to his legs to his spike.

Blast Off let off a little gasp of pleasure, but he silenced himself when she glanced up in surprise. He quickly waved her off, and she continued stroking him. He then asked her a sudden question.

"Lyzack, have you ever, uh, interfaced?"

She looked at him in surprise, then responded. "No, but I've heard stories from my brother. In fact, given what he's told me, you're, uh, rather big for a Tower mech."

Blast Off looked surprised, and decided to file away the question about her brother's sexuality for later. He then noticed that she was no longer stopping to squeeze, and instead she had sped up a bit. When he stared at her, she blushed again and replied with a small smile. What she said shocked him even more.

"Admit it, you were coming on to me with that line."

"No," he replied. She looked at him shocked and stopped her stroking. He frowned deeply. "Don't stop! I like it. Besides, I thought you were coming on to me!" She smirked after a while and continued stroking. Suddenly she stuck his interface into her mouth.

His surprised look emanated off his face. Then he gasped. For a first time, she's brilliant! he thought, drowning in the pleasure. She began to stroke him again while she mouthed his spike, and he groaned loudly. He reached down and removed her breastpiece. Her mounds weren't too large, but they were perky. He began to massage her breasts. She stopped for a second to gasp at this, then resumed. Finally the orbiter reached his climax. He ejaculated into her mouth. Surprised at the sweet taste of his liquids, she wasn't sure whether to spit or swallow. Realizing from her brother's tips that most mechs preferred it if you swallowed, she greedily gulped it down.

Motioning to her, he got her to lie down on the berth he had been sitting on. Climbing onto the bottom edge of it, he removed her own hip piece.

Inside, her valve was already leaking a little. Pleased with this, he began to eat her out.

Leozack nearly screamed with the feel of his tongue brushing over her interface. His glossa infiltrated her port, thrusting inside and brushing on her clitoris. His powerful maneuvers soon stopped as he felt her close to coming. Smiling at her, he fingered her pussy lightly, then suddenly stuck one of his fingers in. He used his other hand to massage her hard tits. She shook and moaned in pleasure at this turn of events, then narrowly stopped herself from orgasming. He then stuck his second finger in, and this was too much for her.

She screeched in pleasure before her partner silenced her with a hard kiss, afraid that someone would hear. Fluids gushed over the Combaticon's fingers, which he licked. He resumed kissing her in order for their sexual pieces to relax. As his glossa entered the jet's mouth, his palm rubbed her boobs.

Soon she felt his spike harden against her clit. Moaning at this, she eagerly slid her valve on his hardness. He gasped at her tight valve wrapping around him, and he nearly overloaded just then. He steeled himself and began thrusting slowly into her as he silenced her gasps through kissing the blue femme.

He slowly began to speed up as she moved in time to him. Thrusting more and more, he hit her g-spot and she cummed all over his interface.

Not done yet, he began to thrust fully inside her. Even his kisses couldn't stop her intense screaming. They were lucky that no one was near the med bay. After he thrust for several minutes, she orgasmed again, and this finally set him off. Pulling it out, large amounts of liquid spilt onto her, hitting her port and legs.

Quieting as they cleaned up as themselves and the berth, Lyzack could only smile and say one thing:

"I'll see if the Emperor will allow me to become your permanent medic."

At this, even the iciest of the Combaticons cracked a lusty grin.