V/S/B/N
V, Prowl chose. Pre-set mode. Gentle start.
Cybertron's sun was shining through the high windows, the colored glass and the reflecting surfaces made the entire room glitter. The mech blinked up and around him, then continued analyzing the charts he left on his table the day before.
War. Preparation stage. Increased production of weaponry especially in Polyhex, Tesarus and Simfur. Tagan taking up loans and signing a trade agreement with its neighboring polity Tyrest.
Not good. Not good at all.
The armchair pressed gently against the plates between the Praxian's spike and valve, then started massaging the circular panels surrounding the valve. The protrusion moved to the root of the spike, then knocked on the closed valve. Prowl was too lost in his thoughts to react to that.
No, these figures were not good at all. Granted, the Tri-Torus states had less to worry about the uprisings, but this was getting out of control way too fast and the outcome was unpredictable. Except for the damage. Yes, damage could be taken for granted. But how much?
After it detected the valve covers to be still closed, the armchair started the same circle again. It stimulated both organs' outer panels, with the patience only a drone is capable of. In the middle of the third circle, finally, Prowl's valve cover retracted.
The pressure around his spike remained, the stimulation focused on the outsides. A strong but thin and very flexible needle rose from the middle of the chair and entered the noble's valve undetected. The Praxian couldn't have lived without valve stimulation, but the incoming process was his least favorite part and since the armchair was capable of skipping that process, he more often than not opted to use this function. The almost playful pressure around his spike's cover perfectly distracted him until the thin needle was perfectly in position 0,34 metrics deep inside Prowl's most sensitive part. Then, only then, it started to unfold.
Prowl was reading a report from an undercover information specialist, and was rather unhappy with his reading, mostly because it was too accurate and too trustworthy. There was nothing to question about it. The city of Tarn had joined the uprising without a second thought. Prowl was about to look up a minor detail (didn't the so-called leader of this mob originate from there?) when he first registered the artificial metal inside his valve. Then the sensory stimulus disappeared as unnoticed as it came.
Prowl turned a virtual page on the projected material to look up who else was from that territory. Senator Shockwave. Eh... not exactly a good start. On the other hand, he came across a report about a notable police officer who had quite some history with that self-made tyrant of the miners. Where was his file? Oh. Quite impressive feats, and he came from Iacon, which is closest to Tarn and the most likely state to stop this wild mob of troublemakers.
He felt a second pressure in his valve, one far stronger and more heated than the first one, and it lasted about three times as long. Then the dildo pulled itself back to its needle-like shape, although Prowl could now feel energy radiating from it. Barely could he click the page to read more about the police enforcer when the pressure returned again, this time the metal rustled against his inner plating. Then, the piece inside him slowly turned to one side and Prowl was almost pushed to the left of his armchair. Before he could have repositioned himself, the artificial thing pushed him to the right, then it increased in size again. Prowl had once watched it doing a session without him sitting there, but he still couldn't figure out how the artificial spike could widen and thin back so quickly without using subspace technology. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it very much. Even better was the circling, which was about to start soon. Prowl turned the speed on a little.
The head of the needle, the most heated peak of the artificial spike, bent and pointed at a random surface inside him, and started drawing tiny circles on the sensitive part. It was so intense, so perfect sensation. The heat, the touch. Too bad it wasn't advised to be used more than once in a session as it could have left burn marks. Prowl sat back for a moment, and enjoyed the comfort of the false spike's moving. But before the tip of the tool straightened back to its original pose, the Praxian was already back to his charts and the war preparations.
He had a feeling he had overlooked something, and the thought irritated him beyond reason. The solution of this military danger could not, would not be delayed because of his... own issues. He set the armchair's built-in dildo to enlarge and pause until further notice.
That caused a rather awkward feeling, but it helped him concentrate. The tension in his valve was growing as the artificial spike slowly swelled to its maximum size, and he only knew from the spec techs that it wouldn't actually tear him apart. When he felt sure it won't grow any wider, the fraggin' thing still found one more milliklep to take. Prowl silently endured the pleasurable pain, and increased his ventilation because the heated tool was getting a little too hot in temperature.
And that was the moment when Jazz waltzed in.
Prowl only gaped at the white and black robot as he cheerfully danced to the middle of the room, then noticed the happily suffering noble's expression, and dropped into his lap.
"You're the one I can turn to with any questions, eh, Prowl?"
The mech only gave a muted moan, but nodded afterwards.
"Cool. Am I your slave?"
All of a sudden, the spiked mech found his voice.
"WHAT? No!"
"Then what am I?"
"My conjunx" Prowl managed. Either the spike inside had deflated a little, or somehow his valve enlarged on reflex, without his knowledge, to somehow make place for Jazz. The first option could be ruled out easily. "You are my partner, my trusted other half. You are my..." At this point, the spike detected the extra space and filled it immediately.
"My precious friend. The daylight in my life." His valve must have grown again, and now Prowl could read his own frame's inner status: it was indeed trying to somehow make it possible for him to take in the younger mech. The dildo followed suit in a matter of astroseconds.
"You are the sole reason I am willing to stay up all night, playing Helican checkers. The mech I refuse to live without."
One more swelling, and Prowl moaned as he couldn't take more.
"You are the blue gemstone I would take with me if I were to ever leave Cybertron" he whimpered. He stopped the valve-stimulant from growing even wider inside him, but he didn't let it deflate back to its bearable size. It was OK that he had a blocker in his valve when he was talking to Jazz. Otherwise he might start getting perverted ideas again.
Well, not perverted. Pervert means something not accepted in a society - and Cybertron's nobility was anything but prude when it came to making use of others. It would have simply been rather selfish and against Jazz's good.
"Are you on your buzz chair's buzzing again?" Jazz suddenly asked while he settled comfortably on Prowl's thighs. He gently rubbed his black helm to the side of the noble's Autobot-symbol face. "When will you realize it's bad for you?"
"It's... more complicated than that" Prowl hissed. Of course he couldn't deny he was in pain. But rather that than his lust getting the better of him and losing control.
No, that was a selfish thought. He was inwardly accusing Jazz with his need for such stimuli. While, in fact, Jazz was the reason he tried so hard to cope with his needs. He could have as well gone mad by now.
With the dildo stabilized, he called up the menu of his chair and touched the B letter. Both. With Jazz still sitting on his thighs, he opened his legs to the protrusion. Only when the chair's matter was safely on his cover, between him and his young conjunx, did he let his guards drop and his spike be uncovered.
There. Like this, he certainly won't harm Jazz, no matter how aroused he currently is.
"You always say that, Prowl. Complicated. By whom, eh? Who complicated it for you, boss?"
"... my creators."
Jazz stared into his optics.
"How?"
Prowl could already feel the wet hole taking his spike in. The dildo in his valve was standing rigid. Good. He was safe.
"I was placed in a preprogrammed frame. Happens. It was a common thing to do at my time. Quite usual for those impatient to get a fully functional mech for a certain task. My analytical skills were needed during the economical races of the Orbital Torus States."
"And?"
"With an adult frame, came adult viewpoints. But I had no time to develop control over them. You know what the best thing can be for a Cybertronian."
"The closeness of another Cybertronian. Of his choice."
"That exactly." Prowl decided to change the settings and let the valve-stimulant keep growing. Until now, he didn't know his body would react so wildly to the presence of his conjunx. Physical stimulation only seemed to have opened him up for... perhaps more to come.
"And you said that two sparks or more can dwell into each other, and their frames would follow suit" Jazz recalled.
"Yes" Prowl panted. "What our frame normally acknowledges as the best thing to ever happen to it, is becoming one with another Cybertronian. But, you see, this is where the glitch comes in. Sexuality, exactly because of the preciousness of this beautiful connection, is the highest pleasure a sparked frame can register. In a preprogrammed frame, however... that is only the standard."
"What? Prowl, explain it please?" Jazz demanded. He cast a jealous look at the protrusion that had devoured Prowl's spike and was currently sucking on it.
"When I was placed in an adult frame, it already had information on what sexuality feels like. Not the whole feeling, not the love or the connection to the others - only the physical stimulation these go with. Sexuality would normally be a source of joy, but for us, pre-mades, it is... it is an addiction."
His spike was getting massaged and pulled at the same time, the dildo in his valve made him cringe in pain. Very carefully he switched the static stimulation to pumping, hoping that to keep him stimulated enough without rupturing his insides.
"I... I think I understand" Jazz muttered. "I mean, I have seen addicts of that when I was hanging with the Black Ops in Kaon."
Prowl grimaced again, and this time, it had nothing to do with his pleasury organs. He really didn't like Jazz being around Kroma and his friends, although the mechs knew what would happen to them if Jazz's plating would get as much as dented. But if he would have scolded Jazz for mentioning them, that would only lead to him not telling the next time. So he sat back, tried to enjoy the pumping in his valve and the vacuum on his spike, and waited for Jazz to enlight him.
"There was a rather mean-looking mech" Jazz started. "Ochre, with purple optics. He had two slaves, rather big ones, on a stage next to the Trading Circle. Those guys were rather noisy, but not in a good sense. They were moaning, much like you sometimes, and were trying to reach into their own valves with their hands and there came two mechs who paid for the right to put dildos in them. Then they made a huge show of throwing themselves left and right and screaming and after a while they settled down and Kroma said that they will be all right for a few orns and not need to go on stage again for a while."
"Primus."
"You say these two were having the same gli... issue as you do, Prowl?"
The noble straightened himself and tried to look like a noble, and not one of the very decadent type.
"Quite possible" he said. And he will have a serious talk with Kroma very soon. What was he teaching to the youngling?!
"For your information" Prowl continued later, when his frame's reactions finally calmed down. His spike was still in the cavity of the chair, under sweet pressure from each side, but the dildo in his valve had reduced itself to the almost undetectable needle width. He only knew it was still there because the menu of the valve stimulant was still active. "This what we have just discussed is the downside of frame-sexuality. You will learn the up-side, when you'll be old enough to master it."
"Thanks, Prowl. Mother says I should be the one to mind your needs, boss. She says it would be good for me to do that. Actually... that is why I came here."
Prowl's face expression said it all. He'd rather let Jazz spend an entire orn with the Black Ops than let him spend one groon with Extra - but he had no say in that matter.
"Your mother expected me to take you for serving my needs" Prowl grimaced. He left the valve-stimulant in standby mode, but his arousal entirely left him. "She expected me to place your spark in a pre-made frame like it happened to me. Then I could have everything my frame needs - and many mechs of Cybertron's upperclass don't see further than that."
Jazz rested his helm on Prowl's shoulder. There was some jealousy in his tone.
"But you're afraid I'd not handle it well. That I would end up an addict like those guys in the market of Kaon."
Prowl held him closer. Now that his frame's need was sated, he didn't need to fear himself hurting his friend. He enjoyed his presence, even without sexual frame-connection it was much more than company for him. It was mutual trust.
"I want to know what I'm missing" Jazz whispered.
"And you will. Jazzling, I appreciate that you want to help me, but this is too early for you."
"Then talk about it, at least."
Prowl stared in front of himself. Talk about his addiction? About how he's using a chair that was originally invented for breaking prisoners?
"This is only a fragment of interfacing" he whispered back. "The real art of it is when not just the frames connect, but the minds too. Then the partners can share their perceptions and they will feel the pleasures of their partner's frame too. But be very careful with it. A mindlinked interface is always a two-ways connection and one must be very careful not to let slip of anything they wouldn't want to share."
"That is why I've never seen you doing that with any mech" Jazz pointed out.
"That is exactly correct" the noblemech nodded. "The last time I've done that was two quadricycles before you came into my life, and I had to kill the mech afterwards." Well. That was the short version.
"But you will connect to me when I'm old enough, right?"
"Of course I will."
"Can I take that for granted?" whimpered his young conjunx.
"You have my word."
Jazz settled even closer to his partner, looking at him with innocent optics. Innocent-ish. Prowl was no fool: this mech could outsmart Ratbat and beat some femmebots in sharpshooting. He still had much to learn about his own frame, however.
"And then, there are the spark connections. Very few mechs would do that, it is usually a once-in-a-lifetime connection. But it also lasts an entire lifetime, even when the rest of the connections are irreparably severed."
"How?" Jazz looked up at him. "How can that be?"
"I wish I knew. But it's really giving me a headache sometimes."
He looked into Jazz's optics, and continued.
"Well. Once upon a time there was a slightly glitched pleasure-bot. He was nothing special, but for some reason, he wasn't as good in berth as a mech like him is supposed to be. He'd been very rarely hired, his agent mostly kept him for the sadistic clients when he didn't want them to damage the more valuable 'bots. This poor mech was assigned to a slow decay of little use and no real service he could provide. Then, one day, his life was changed forever."
"Yes...?"
"He'd been given to a nasty, aggressive, egoist psychopath everyone else avoided. That mech was a powerful outlander. His spark had been found on Luna-2, and a very rare type of spark I say. Looking back, in our society he really had no chance to become a normal mechanism."
"And?!"
"By the time they've met, they both hated the world and everybot in it."
Prowl touched Jazz's black helm.
"They got on extremely well from the very first moment. For the first time in his life, the psychopath had someone to care for. The small one had very clever hands, but really, that was all about him. His self-appointed caretaker helped him get the best education the Protihex Medical Mechanics University could provide. Which was, eventually, the downfall of the duo."
"What happened to them?"
"The young surgeon was told that leaving a few memories of his past behind would greatly improve his possibilities at work. Which was true, but... deleting everything from before the Protihex University didn't entirely separate him from his bonded. Now we have a great surgeon, Jazz, and many good mechs he later recruited for the New Institute. But. As much as they normally specialize in downregulating dangerous elements, we cannot do anything about the most troublesome mechanism. If his bonded would meet him again, we all know that Trepan would leave us without ever looking back."
