Title: Tyrant of the Seraglio, Pt. 8: Interlude
Warning: uREAD THE WARNINGS/u, PLEASE
Slavery
Coercion
Depression
Torture (psychological)
Compromise
Rating: PG-13
Continuity: IDW/G1 (AU)
Characters: Optimus, Megatron, Soundwave, Brawl, Starscream, Ratbat
Disclaimer: The theatre doesn't own the script or actors, nor does it make a profit from the play.
Motivation (Prompt): Some of these used to be in Candy From Strangers, but a couple were Tumblr prompts I didn't have a place for. They belong in the story, just not part of an actual part.
[* * * * *]
"Soundwave"
[* * * * *]
Three pillows were missing.
Soundwave counted again, hoping against hope, but the count came up three short. He swung his head, searching the room by sight. Megatron and the ex-Prime were debating something by the window. Or rather, Optimus leaned against the window while Megatron stood as near to it as the slave-bands allowed. There were no pillows at their feet or in their hands.
He'd hoped the ex-Prime had the missing pillows, because visits from fellow Autobots roused nostalgia in Optimus. Sometimes the ex-leader handled the pillows afterward, appreciating them all over again as he remembered Earth and the Ark . Soundwave had hoped...but, no. Hope was useless. He knew better than to succumb to an emotional crutch. He needed to search , not stand here hoping.
Moving took an exhausting amount of effort, but it was easier than it had been. Soundwave carefully walked to the bed and leaned down to put his hand on the surface. His knees met the floor with a muffled thud as his balance gave out at the very end, but the two harem slaves didn't even glance over. His clumsiness wasn't new or unexpected.
Soundwave bent and peered under the bed, sticking an arm under to swish about in futile search. He'd already looked here. He'd already combed the entire harem for the missing pillows, and they just weren't here!
He looked uncertainly to the door. Brawl had done a standard post-visitation check on them after Ironhide had left. Usually the tank would kick any stray pillows back into the harem, so they likely weren't out there. He should check anyway. He was technically permitted to leave the harem, but if he left, and someone was waiting outside -
No. Not even if Brawl had somehow ignored a pillow lying right in the middle of the guard room would Soundwave voluntarily leave the safety of the harem.
Yet his systems were starting to amp up as fear built, tarry and hot. The pillows were missing. They were his responsibility. He'd been explicitly ordered to keep them organized, and there were three missing. That was three times the failure. One pillow might slip past, but three? His Master would know .
Megatron had tried a lot in his time bound to the harem. Soundwave had attempted far less, but it didn't matter. Ex-tyrant or crippled Communication Officer, their owner always knew what they were up to. There were three pillows missing, and that meant Soundwave had failed to obey three times, meaning that the punishment would be multiplied by three as well.
The consequences would be...brutal.
Still on his knees, Soundwave stared fixedly at the door, convinced that the next time it opened a world of pain would walk through and descend on him.
[* * * * *]
"Starscream - Bitter"
[* * * * *]
Being Ratbat's Second carried far more perks and far fewer irritations than the same position under Megatron. It helped that Cybertron lay at his feet, conquered. It also helped that some of the perks made him forget for long stretches that he didn't rule it as leader.
He curled a finger under Soundwave's chin, forcing the slave to look up at him. Yes indeed, it helped.
Obedience to his will kept Soundwave's hands folded together and knees to the floor. Walking was too much of a challenge for the slave, but Soundwave knew better than to give it even a wobbly attempt in Starscream's illustrious presence. Starscream hadn't needed to order him crawl to his feet in quite some time. The added flourishes were just a bonus. He didn't know which of Soundwave's various abusers in the halls had taught him to bow down, forehelm pressed to the floor in groveling submission, but it was a nice touch. The slave knew his place.
Using his former leader as a harem slave satisfied much of his ambition. Having Megatron's loyal shadow at his beck and call was merely a charming extra on top of an already beautiful victory. Starscream smiled, letting himself gloat.
Soundwave blinked, a scrap of hope flickering in his visor. He tried to keep his gaze downcast respectfully, but he'd seen Starscream's smile. It wasn't overly sadistic, today.
Starscream let him hold onto that hope. He turned his attention to the end of the audience hall, where the usual crowd milled. Two visors stared from knee-height, and he looked right at their owners. Frenzy had the intelligence to lower his visor and dip into a shallow bow. Rumble kept staring with that look of starved hunger. Starscream tapped his finger under Soundwave's chin, cueing him to sit upright in immediate servile willingness to please, and Rumble's expression pinched into bitter hatred. Frenzy jerked his twin around a moment too late.
"Make a note," Starscream said lazily to his secretary. "Proximity bans for the Cassettes of this one," he gestured to the slave at his feet, "are to be extended to the first tier of the city." They'd still be allowed into the city, hanging around the lower tiers of the city to scrape bits of news from any guards at the bars, but it would kick them out of the palace.
His secretary nodded and turned to inform the guards, who moved in on the twins the second their orders cleared. Frenzy and Rumble controlled themselves enough to submit to the orders. Soundwave never even knew they were there before they were escorted from the hall.
Starscream leaned back in his seat, savoring the power.
[* * * * *]
"Brawl and Soundwave in Tyrant"
[* * * * *]
Soundwave starved for normal touch. Optimus rested a hand on his arm, sometimes, or helped him stand up after falling, but that was the extent of his benign contact. Megatron's restraints didn't allow even that much. After so long cringing under abuse, any physical contact without hostility behind it melted his struts.
Was it any wonder he latched onto Brawl? Protection aside, the Combaticon was a physical mech. He directed Soundwave around via rough shoving more often than not. Now that Soundwave all but belonged to him, he tended to catch the harem eunuch by the shoulder or back of the neck to reel him in to molest, running his hands over thin plating until Soundwave vibrated in contained fear, pleasure, and sheer, delirious delight. Brawl liked to pin him back on the desk, looming over him to thrum that heavy tank engine while the slave writhed, unable not to react.
Brawl loved Soundwave's unrestrained reactions. It was funny watching someone he remembered as a stoic officer fall apart in his hands. Even now that Soundwave was a slave, Brawl felt powerful controlling him. He could make Soundwave shift from eagerness to terror to needy arousal just by changing how he grabbed the mech's throat. It was hot. It made his visor dim to a dark, lusting crimson as he reduced the boxy mech to silent whimpers for more at his feet.
Encouraging Brawl's groping might have been undignified if Soundwave had any dignity left. He didn't think he did. What he had was rough caresses and rattling plating, approval he hadn't realized he yearned for until Brawl's hand stroked down the back of his helm after he brought the Combaticon to overload. It had been so long since he'd done something right for a powerful and important mech, even if Brawl wasn't his Ratbat or Starscream. Soundwave outright basked in Brawl's approval. The tank's possessiveness left him almost giddy.
Dignity didn't matter. Soundwave didn't hesitate to sacrifice even the memory of it for more of that punchdrunk, elated joy he felt when Brawl handled him like a piece of valuable property. Brawl enjoyed him, and Soundwave would trade his body and spark for that.
Exchanging one-sided interfacing for protection was already a great deal. Sometimes, when he was very good and Brawl exceptionally pleased, the tank would put forth the extra effort to push Soundwave over the edge, too. For the pleasure of an overload, Soundwave almost worshiped him.
But the extended physical contact was a blissful side effect he would never tire of. Soundwave dimmed his visor and turned his head to nudge into the hand absently resting on his helm. Technically, he was neglecting his duty right now. He supposed to be fetching the solvent for the harem's daily cleansing, Optimus smiling wearily as Soundwave sponged at imaginary dirt off his armor and Megatron grudgingly washing his hands in the basin while the eunuch tended to the ex-Prime. Brawl had lazily waved him over to the desk, however, and Soundwave could deny him nothing.
Being pulled down to kneel at the Combaticon's side this way was no hardship. Brawl liked to touch him, and Soundwave met Brawl's hands halfway for the painless touch he craved. The idle petting would have been degrading if he didn't soak it up like the sponge he used to wash Optimus. As it was, he leaned his helm against Brawl's thigh and reveled.
He'd starved too long not to be grateful for a crumb.
[* * * * *]
"consequences"
[* * * * *]
Soundwave didn't hear him coming. He didn't even feel the vibration of the floor this time.
It was the busiest hour of the day, and he kept his visor downcast to avoid…provoking someone. Not that anyone needed an excuse to abuse him, but a slave who submitted was far less likely to catch attention for a 'lesson.' The halls were full of mechs crossing paths and gesticulating in conversation, a bright moving tide of things he couldn't hear and had every reason to fear. Every other step, he had to pause or shorten his stride to avoid quick-moving mechs. It wobbled his balance a lot.
Head bowed over the tray, he walked as fast as he could, concentrating on staying on his feet and staying out of everyone's way.
It required so much concentration that he didn't see Brawl approaching until suddenly there were feet in front of him.
He almost jumped out of his plating when the Combaticon casually reached past him and yanked Breakdown into sight - and away.
[* * * * *]
