Arcee's New Role: Chapter One
Project Predacon
by RaygunCourtesan
Synopsis
Having been supplanted by Ultra Magnus as Optimus Prime's second in command, Arcee finds herself excluded from the next mission. Ultra Magnus is an old-school soldier, and he has another duty in mind for the femme.
Tags
Non-con, reluctance, violence, sexual slavery, D/s, coercion.
Chronology
These events occur during the episode Project Predacon, Season 3 Episode 5 of Transformers Prime.
Why?
I am a tremendous fan of the Aligned Continuity reboot, as presented in the cartoon series Transformers Prime. For me, it resolved many outstanding issues from conflicting canon, tidied up messy ret-cons and focused on strong characters and their stories, rather than being a twenty minute toy commercial. Of this very strong show, I was particularly glad to see how they handled Arcee. Rather than being 'girlfriend' characters for an audience which had entered their teens, Arcee is what many feminists have been crying out for. Not a female character so strong she can "kick ass with the boys" and has no known weaknesses. But rather strong characters, who happen to be female. She feels like a complete person, not an afterthought, a caricature or bit-part.
So I was a bit bemused when Project Predacon aired and Arcee was basically forgotten about. The sole rounded, independent female character has had her role within the Autobots taken over by Ultra Magnus, who is not only her superior officer with formal command training but, by all accounts, a better soldier (He did, for a time at least, go toe to toe with Megatron) and no replacement role was forthcoming.
The fact that she wasn't sent on a mission while the boys went roaring off and even Ratchet has a project with strong foreshadowing felt a tiny bit sexist to me. "You, female...watch the kids! Have dinner ready when we get back! We have MEN'S work to do!"
Now its entirely possible that Arcee has been given a special mission which just isn't covered in this episode. Or maybe she's been inducted into the Wreckers and will go to Scotland, though it sure didn't look like it.
So this story sort of came to me, as an erotically charged version of that sidelining, dialed up to eleven. Fellow feminists should view this as a work of parody commenting on her sidelining and/or invocation of Poe's Law. For fellow perverts, I just hope its sexy.
I ultimately couldn't decide whether to explicitly write the sex scene. So id love to hear views on whether it should be included, or finish where it is.
Shut up already and make with the kinky smut!
Ok!
"Ultra Magnus, lead the Wreckers to the Bluffs." Optimus intoned to his newly returned second in command. Wheeljack and Bulkhead followed their leader's gaze to the large power armoured warrior.
"Yes, Optimus..." Ultra Magnus replied dutifully, casting a sidelong glance to the grimly smiling Wheeljack. He took two steps forward, crowding out their vision and leaned up to Optimus' side. "...what's a kilt?" he asked quietly.
Optimus spared a look to Agent Fowler, before dipping down to join Ultra Magnus in the conspiratorial whisper.
"Agent Fowler can, at times, be oblique." the Prime explained tactfully. He understood the dilemma, it might've been vital information, but a commander could not risk seeing ill-informed before his troops.
Optimus leaned in further, lowering his voice. "I find it best to simply nod and mobilise."
"Bulkhead, Wheeljack; let's roll." Ultra Magnus barked. Wheeljack's shoulders slumped, giving a drawn out, aggravated grunt as the pair started toward the armoury.
"I will lead Bumblebee and Smokescreen to the oil fields, and recover the remains of the Predacon." Optimus' declared.
"All right!" Smokescreen cheered, the young warrior's hand curling into a fist and pumping his arm excitedly. "Working with the Prime!" Bumblebee gave an excited chirp.
"And what about me?" Arcee asked, the two-wheeler's arms folding across her chest plate and shifting her weight to one foot.
"I have another assignment for you." Ultra Magnus replied sternly. "Report to me shortly."
Arcee's gaze followed the other warriors. "Yes, sir." she answered after a pause, then departing herself.
The two Autobot commanders spoke softly as they walked, away from prying audio-receptors.
"Optimus, I know there are many emotions tied to the femme." Ultra Magnus began.
Optimus lifted his hand, signalling for silence. "This is no time to stand on ceremony." he replied, grimly.
Arcee stood before the reinforced door of vault thirty-four. Its door, recessed into the concrete and operated by power assisted servos stood as an imposing barrier. Whatever was kept inside, it had to be of great importance.
"Ten-hut!" Ultra Magnus' sharp, commanding voice barked from behind the femme. She jumped, body stiffening to attention and snapping a sharp salute as ingrained training taking over in the moment of shock.
"Reporting as ordered, sir!" Arcee replied. Stern discipline had made little sense when there were only five Autobots, but she had longed for it. She had struggled to instil some herself, but Ultra Magnus was an old fashioned soldier. He said jump, you said how high, Sir?
Other responses were not permitted.
"Good show, soldier." Ultra Magnus nodded as he approached, keying in the combination. "I know that it hasn't been easy..." he offered in momentary comfort.
The great vault door whirred, its seal breaking with a hiss of air. They stepped through together into an antechamber, a sturdy airlock door before them. Magnus pulled a lever and with a grinding of stone the vault door closed upon them again.
"It hasn't, sir. Id gotten used to command." Arcee concurred, her gaze dropping away as she made the admission.
"Well, that's all over now..." Ultra Magnus began.
With the seal back in place, the airlock door slid open. The room beyond was dark, pitch black even. The faint red glow of the airlock's lighting barely extended a few feet before them.
As Magnus led the way, Arcee trailed behind him. The large Autobot's footfalls echoing off the stone of the room.
The airlock slid closed and sealed with another hiss.
"...you don't have to worry about such burdens anymore." Magnus assured. The lights in the room flickered for a moment before bathing the spartan concrete walls in a soft glow.
The room was not particularly large, by Autobot standards. But for what little was inside, there was enough.
An energon dispenser built into the door-side wall, a simple desk and steel chair beside it. In the far corner of the room rested an austere, though large, metal bed. An empty space dominated the centre.
The final furnishing stood out against the others. Opposite the bed stood a, presently empty, oil-bath. Far from the severe industrial look of the rest of the room. It was large, more than sufficient for simple bathing for even the large framed Cybertronians. Sloped edges spoke to providing comfort rather than basic utility.
"This a cell?" Arcee asked, stepping alongside Ultra Magnus and looking up to the towering commander. "Whose the lucky guest?"
Ultra Magnus gave a sigh. "Id rather you didn't think of it that way, Arcee..." he turned toward her. "...you may not have noticed, but our ranks are decidedly thin. Megatron has an army, we have seven soldiers and..."
"Eight." Arcee cut him off. "Optimus, you, me, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Wheeljack, Smokescreen...the rookie's not so bad, and Ratchet might not like to fight but he will."
"Seven." Ultra Magnus repeated his initial count resolutely. "You're the only surviving femme we know to exist. You're too valuable to risk in the field."
"Sir?" Arcee's head moved back, a scowl forming on her faceplate as she rested her hands on her hip plates. "What does that have to do with anything?" she asked, indignantly.
Ultra Magnus lifted a large hand, sweeping it about the room in presentation. "These are your new quarters." he squared his shoulders with her, looming over the two-wheeler. "We need to begin replenishing our ranks. You have a duty to perform."
Arcee's optics widened, her mouth dropping open as she stood wordless in shock for seconds that seemed to drag on for eternity.
"What in the name of the All-Spark are you talking about?!" she snapped angrily, heedless of Ultra Magnus' imposing frame. "I'm a warrior, not some...comfort-bot!"
"This will be easier if you cooperate." Ultra Magnus asserted, evenly. He reached for her, one large hand moving for her slender forearm.
"Don't you touch me!" Arcee snarled. She skipped back, the fast femme evading Magnus' comparatively lumbering grasp. She could scarcely believe what was happening. She had to escape. Optimus, he would put a stop to this. She had to get to Optimus.
Stepping inside Ultra Magnus' reach, her arms raised to a boxing guard, Arcee struck out. A straight-armed jab crashing into Magnus' jaw and snapping the commander's head back. The towering warrior staggered back, shaking his head to clear the disorientation. Arcee swung her frame around, a fluid transition of movement as the distance between them opened up, her leg raised in a powerful kick.
It collided with Magnus' arm, his considerably greater mass putting a stop to her flowing strike with a sharp clang of metal. He wound his arm around the limb, locking her in place. With speed out of the equation, this had become incredibly one-sided.
Arcee crumpled to the ground with a heavy crash, skidding back. A sharp cry of pain echoing around the room as Ultra Magnus' giant fist had smashed powerfully into her lower torso, releasing her leg as he struck.
Arcee lay sprawled on the floor, her faceplate a tightly drawn grimace of pain and one arm drawn protectively across the damage. As Ultra Magnus' heavy footsteps slowly approached, she lifted her head.
Ultra Magnus' ice blue optics stared down at the femme. Her faceplate was as mask of myriad anguish. Pain. Betrayal. Anger.
Fear.
Magnus sighed, shaking his head. "Im sorry that it came to that."
"Then...don't..." Arcee struggled to heave between the waves of pain.
"Its been decided." Ultra Magnus stated, matter-of-factly. His large hand reached down to her shoulder, drawing the small framed femme up to her knees. "We all have our duties to perform..."
Arcee's optical visors squeezed shut as she felt Ultra Magnus' hand on the back of her head. Rage and despair welled up inside her, a churning sensation deep in the pit of her energon-processor.
Fighting wouldn't help. The pain still knotting in her abdomen confirmed that much. At best, she would make him angry. She walked forward at his urging, crawling on her knees as he led her by the head to the desk.
The chair clanged heavily as Ultra Magnus turned it around and set it before Arcee. He settled into it, feet spaced widely apart. Arcee's body quaked. The sharp sound had sent a wave of cold dread racing through her system and as the commander sat down, the first real sound escaped her mouth.
It was a broken, strained sob. A quiet bubble of sound that'd been stuck in her throat since this began. She'd been unwilling to give it voice before, unwilling to yield. But now, she let it out, dark amber oil-tears leaking from the edges of her optics as she opened their ports again.
"Please..." she begged. "...im not..."
Magnus gave no quarter, his strong hand guiding Arcee between his thighs, and the pressure of his large hand at the back of her head forcing her down. The large panel at the fore his of armour popped forward, sliding up out of the way.
Arcee's view was filled by Ultra Magnus' interface. The long tube at the moment un-powered, flaccid and flexible.
"Do your duty." Magnus ordered. His tone a little softer, though offering no opening for argument. He pushed her down to reinforce the point.
