Going through my folders and trying to get back into writing and stumbled across the first paragraph of this, one I'd totally forgotten about. Why not jump back into writing with a nice dark bit of Knock Out and Breakdown? Short but darkly sweet.
Protégé part 2
KO/BD
WARNINGS: Dark fic, whipping, hinted bloodplay-ish, all consensual
Knock Out slowly circled the restrained mech before him. Each step echoing in the silence as sharp optics carefully took in very detail. He paused, checking over a length of thick metal cabling that ran from the tight shackle around his captive's wrist to the ceiling. He pulled hard against the cable. It didn't budge. Though, truth be told, he lacked the strength to rip it from its anchors in the ceiling. His assistant on the other hand...
"Everything feel secure to you?"
Breakdown nodded, speech inhibited by the bit lodged in his mouth. The gag strapped tightly around his helm.
"Good. Then we're about ready."
Knock Out flashed him a quick smile before turning, sauntering slowly away. Yellow optics followed the medic's every move, forever seduced by the hypnotic sway of red plated hips. Breakdown waited as Knock Out removed a whip from the wall, turning just enough to cast Breakdown an admiring glance before disappearing behind him.
Rotating his wrists in the shackles, Breakdown gripped the metal cabling tightly. He knelt, arms stretched out in a v above him. No shackles or cables held him to the floor. There was no need for them. Knock Out's instruction alone kept him on his knees. Even the shackles and cables that bound his wrists were unnecessary. Breakdown would put up no resistance, offer up no protest. But Knock Out delighted in those restraints, so they remained.
The soft tap of Knock Out's light steps neared him, stopping just behind him. Close enough he could feel the heat of Knock Out's systems brush tantalizingly against his back. Small hands reached out, fingertips just skimming down the surface of his arms, coming to rest lightly on strong shoulders.
Breakdown drew in a shuttering breath, a tight shiver running through him. Knock Out chuckled lowly, kneeling down behind Breakdown, pressing himself against the broad back, fingers teasing along blue plating. He leaned close, lips brushing against his audial.
"Eager, my pet?"
A curt nod was Breakdown's only answer then he felt Knock Out's lips split into a grin as the medic purred happily.
"Good."
Small hands splayed against his plating, caressing around to his chest plate. One hand straying, gliding up Breakdown's neck, under his chin, tilting his head back to rest against the swell of Knock Out's shoulder. His hand stroked back down the broad chest, rejoining his other hand as both journeyed down abdominal plating. Palms gliding over hips, fingers edging ever closer to his interface panel.
Breakdown moaned, optics drooping closed, luxuriating in the heat against his back, the hands exploring him. Building the charge, the anticipation, that began to surge just beneath his plating.
There were so many things Knock Out had shown him since he left the Autobots, the Wreckers. So many new pleasures, each a darker delight than the last. He embraced them all, plunging himself wholly, unhesitatingly, into Knock Out's private twisted world. Where Knock Out's wants became Breakdown's needs and the larger mech gave, willingly, to Knock Out's every whimsical want, every elaborate desire. He'd give frame and spark till there was nothing left of himself to give if that's what Knock Out required.
Knock Out need only ask and he'd do it.
That hot lithe frame pulled away from him, fingers lingering a moment to tease along seams, before stepping back. The crackle of the energon whip activating echoed off the blank walls of the small room.
The first fall of the whip caused Breakdown to arch his back and hiss in a breath, hands clenching on the cables that held his arms. The whip fell a second then third time and he could feel the warm wet slide of his own energon seeping from the gashes, trailing down his back plating.
Pain mingled with anticipation. The knowledge that after Knock Out was done with the whip there'd be soft soothing touches exploring each welt, memorizing each bite into his plating made by the whip, crisscross patterns created by the same hands that would eventually erase them. That low throaty purr, full of approval, would reverberate through him as Knock Out's energy field merged with his own. Lips would follow, a probing glossa bringing a lustful sting to already heated plating as the medic tasted the bittersweet tang of his protégé's energon.
Breakdown groaned at the thought, at the memory of previous times, head bowing forward, awaiting the next strike of the whip.
Anything.
He'd do anything for Knock Out.
In the ProtégéAU, KO and BD both have an almost unhealthy obsession with each other, yet it's this same unhealthy obsession that actually helps balance them and keeps the scales from tipping too much one way or another. I don't know why I love dark!KO/BD but I do! Enjoy!
