It was maddening, Perceptor thought as he trembled in his seat, looking over his work with glazed optics. The scientist's bottom lip was trembling. Two weeks had passed since he had become 'intimate' with Drift, and the mech had stepped each and every session up from the last. Not that Perceptor minded, no, the scientist relished the attention the mech doted on him. Even if Drift slapped him around, bit him, took him so rough that it hurt, Perceptor could only describe his feelings for Drift as an addiction. The attention that Drift brought to him, while slightly negative in Perceptor's opinion, was still an infinitely better situation than being neglected. Every night, Perceptor could look forward to being the center of the swordsmech's attention.

This night was no different, actually, already he desired the culmination of the night even more as he squirmed in his chair. The sensations in his valve made the memories of the morning all the more clearer.

Drift had walked in without so much as a word, and Perceptor had found himself gasping as the mech forced his panel open. Still, the shining mech hadn't said a word, and moved in a way that was methodical versus lust driven. The mech had allowed him to watch as he had shoved two buzzing orbs into his valve, and Perceptor still remembered gasping as they entered him. Then Drift had placed a plug in him so they wouldn't fall out. Following that, Drift had finally spoken, but only to tell him to shut his panel and not to touch his interface for the entire day and that if he did, punishment would come. . .

A whine left Perceptor as he leaned forward, crossing his legs as those buzzing toys continued to tease him. Grasping at the desk roughly for a moment, Perceptor could only give a shocked gasp as he noticed Springer standing in the doorway of his labs. The green Wrecker's helm turned to the side in confusion before he asked, "Are you alright Perceptor?"

Swallowing hurriedly, Perceptor forced his posture into something a little more resembling relaxed even though he hardly was. "Y-yes, Springer, just fine, I was just stretching!" Perceptor managed with a chord of nervous laughter.

The crinkling in Springer's face clearly told Perceptor that Springer didn't believe that. Crossing his arms, Springer murmured, "Kup wanted me to send down some readings for you to look at." Springer's arms remained crossed for just a moment more before he dropped them to sub out a datapad for Perceptor.

It was then Perceptor realized he would have to stand to retrieve it, and that meant jostling those pleasure toys in his valve. Swallowing, he slowly rose, using the desk to support himself while trying not to cry out with the acute pleasure teasing his valve.

Seeing this, Springer could only quip, "Perceptor, if you're not feeling well, you should go to the medbay. Kup would hardly want you to work yourself too hard."

Smiling weakly, Perceptor replied in a nervous tone, "Oh, but I'm fine, I swear," before he made the ardent strides towards Springer. Perceptor took the datapad gingerly before offering a soft, "Thank you for bringing this down for me, I appreciate it." Oh, who knew what would've happened if he had needed to actually walk a long distance with those horrible, horrible devices in his valve. Why, even now, Perceptor could feel more than a little lubricant sloshing around those vibrating beads.

"You take care of yourself, Perceptor, the medic had a time of it patching you up, and he said that any changes in your health should be of the utmost priority considering," Springer chided while shaking a digit at him.

In the meantime, Perceptor had pressed the datapad over his chest as he was chided by the mech. Wincing, he offered another, "I'm really quite fine, sir, there's no need to worry about me."

Surely Springer didn't believe him, but the much larger mech gave in before offering a farewell, "You have a good night, hear?"

"Y-yes, you too, Springer," Perceptor murmured with his helm tilted down, his legs pressed tightly together as if he feared the lubricant would leak out of his panel. The scientist was all too relieved when Springer left, even sighing before half waddling back to his chair.

"I'm disappointed, Perceptor," came a very familiar voice from the door way.

Perceptor whirled, and given his state, half toppled over when he found his optics on Drift's visage. The scientist gave a squeak as he held his frame up precariously against his desk, knocking several items off in the process.

"W-what do you mean?" Perceptor asked with bright optics which watched as Drift entered his lab.

"I mean how much you stammer. . . You wilt under everyone's optics. . ." Drift said plainly, his voice cool for the moment while he padded towards the trembling Perceptor, who was quiet. "Even now, you tremble and shudder, that's fine under my optics, but anyone elses'? No. It won't do," Drift said dismissively as he pressed a hand to Perceptor's chest.

A whine broke from the scientist's vocalizer, but Drift pressed his index digit against Perceptor's lips. "Don't worry, I'll help you. . . I'll make something out of you, I'll make them respect you," Drift crooned softly against an audio receptor.

The mere thought made Perceptor's optics widen, the thought of being someone respected made his spark pulse several times.

"Do you want that?" Drift asked.

"Y-yes. . ." Perceptor stammered, temporarily distracted by the sensations between his legs.

"Good, now pack up your things, and let's go," Drift said before drawing himself away from the scientist.

***

It had taken quite awhile to say the least. Drift had stayed there, watching Perceptor's every movement. Correcting him on his posture, or that he was trembling too much, berating him left and right, all while those toys continued to tease the slag right out of him.

There had been times when Perceptor had been so frustrated, but Drift had kept pushing him. He'd tell him to stop shaking, to walk straight, and a myriad other demands. Drift had even made Perceptor walk across the room several times, only letting him stop when the mech had stopped shaking from the pleasure teasing his systems. It had been nigh impossible, but Perceptor had finally managed after what must've been the tenth attempt.

Yet when he had finally succeeded, Drift had rewarded with him with sweet compliments and even sweeter promises. . .

Now it wasn't so bad, though the walk to Drift's quarters had hardly been pleasant. Yet now he was upon his knees staring up at Drift, who was sitting, cross legged on a chair while regarding Perceptor. Drift's azure optics darted all about him and Perceptor pursed his lips as he waited for whatever it was Drift wanted to do.

"Now what should I do with you?" Drift asked in a voice that must've been rhetorical.

Perceptor could only turn his head bashfully down.

"Look at me, Perceptor. . ." Drift said, his voice carrying an unsaid threat.

Once again pursing his lips, Perceptor looked up at Drift, feeling his cheeks heat while his frame felt like it would melt under Drift's scrutiny. Not only that, Drift had hardly been so kind to removed those toys from his valve.

Perceptor watched as Drift turned his head to the side, placing his index digit against his lip. "It annoys me how much you quake and whimper when anyone so much as looks at you. You act like some easy plate-trade mech, always acting all shy as if you're some virgin mech," Drift berated with cold, narrowed optics.

"I-I'm sorry, Drift," Perceptor whimpered, his helm starting to sink.

A veritable snarl left Drift then, "Don't apologize! Don't stammer, and look at me!"

After Drift finished, the mech slammed his fist against the edge of the chair, causing Perceptor to jerk, but he did look up.

"You're only going to be submissive to me, do you hear, Perceptor?" Drift asked cooly as his persona settled back into a much calmer side of Drift.

Swallowing, Perceptor willed himself not to stammer before replying, "Yes, Drift. . ."

"Good," Drift said before tenting his digits in his lap, while uncrossing his legs. Spreading them crudely, Drift grinned, "Now, we're going to work on a rewards system. . . Tell me, Perceptor, have you ever pleasured a mech with your mouth?"

The very thought caused Perceptor's cheeks to heat before he replied, "No, Drift. . ."

"Well, you're going to learn then, unless you like those beads in your valve?" Drift mused with a grin. "Come here," purred the lithe, shining white mech.

Looking weary, Perceptor edged towards Drift slowly, upon his knees, not bothering to rise up. Soon, he was right before Drift and he watched as the mech flicked a hand out to touch the back of his helm. Chills shot up Perceptor's backstrut at such a plain touch simply because it was Drift.

"Good, good, Perceptor. . . Now, put your hands on my thighs, stroke them, touch me like you would want me to touch you," Drift crooned as he leaned his helm back.

Gingerly, Perceptor reached his hands out before laying them Drift's spread legs. The warmth radiating off of them surprised Perceptor, but he didn't comment as he started to move his hands in slow circles on the shining metal.

"Go on. . ."

Drift's urgings caused Perceptor to press a little more firmly to the metal as he looked up to watch Drift's expression.

"Now your mouth, press your lips to my panel, lick, use your imagination. . ." Drift purred as he rubbed his hand over the back of Perceptor's helm with a smile blooming on his lips.

Nodding slowly, Perceptor eased his face down until his lips touched to the panel that he feared he would burn his lips on. It was a chaste touch, but a rumble from Drift urged Perceptor to press his lips more fully against Drift's panel, before moving his lips against the panel. This elicited some all too beautiful sounds from Drift and Perceptor found it almost. . . similar to a science experiment. Simply put, he was figuring out what pleased Drift. Tenuously, Perceptor flicked his glossa out, running it over the heated metal while he maintained those firm motions on Drift's hips.

There was a faint groan that left from Drift's lips then, and Perceptor could only guess that it was from the application of his glossa to Drift's hot panel.

"More," the warrior mech gritted out, his optics flickering, though with his head down Perceptor could hardly see. "Use the flat of your. . .ah. . . glossa. . . drag it up. . . alternate with the tip. . ." Drift murmured.

Doing just that, Perceptor flicked his optics up while he drew his glossa, upon its flat, up Drift's panel. Just slightly did Perceptor sense Drift's minute movement up and against his glossa. It was rather like Drift was doing his best not to buck his hips right into Perceptor's face plates. A moment later, Perceptor found his lips against nothing, his head dipping down as Drift's panel slid up from under Perceptor's mouth.

Looking down, Perceptor found his optics upon Drift's interface while a hand rubbed at the back of his helm. Perceptor knew just how large Drift's spike was, and he was. . . apprehensive to say the last.

A purr was coming from Drift on the other hand. "Good, good, Percy. . ." he rasped. "Now go ahead, wrap your lips about my housing. . ." he urged.

Swallowing, Perceptor edged his face forward, parting his lips so they could consume the aforementioned spike housing.

"Now suck," Drift commanded with his helm lolled back while the corners of his lips pointed upward.

Flickering his optics, Perceptor tensed his lips around the spike housing before pulling them taunt about the ridged ring and sucking. Again, one of those almost jerking motions came from Drift, and the mech seemed to be straining for control over himself.

A little whimper left Perceptor as Drift pressed a hand against his helm and pushed him back, thinking he must've done something wrong. Yet instead, Perceptor watched as Drift's rather large spike extended. The scientist had yet to see it so close. . . The spike was both long and rather broad, and heavily ridged.

"Go on," Drift chuckled and Perceptor realized that the pale mech had seen his astounded look. "Lick it, I'm getting cold," the mech added as he lounged back, moving his hips out so Perceptor would have better access.

Swallowing, Perceptor knit his brow as he looked over the spike, but he knew better than to disregard or falter on Drift's orders. Slipping his glossa out between his lips, Perceptor pressed it to Drift's spike before licking against it. Perceptor couldn't help but moan as he felt those ridges against his glossa, remembering how that spike felt in his aching valve. A groan reached his audio receptors as he flicked his glossa over Drift's spike, slowly drawing it to the tip before tasting the drop of transfluid that had beaded upon the slit.

The taste was tangy, and hardly unpleasant as Perceptor might've expected. Drawing his glossa about that generous spike, Perceptor would look up every so often to look to Drift. It was hard to discern what was going on with the swordsmech given the position, but the scientist did so try. . .

"Mmm, that's it, good work, Percy, you might shape up after all. . . Now. . . Ah. . . try to swallow me down, take me in your mouth," Drift whispered encouragingly.

Looking at Drift with a gaping mouth, Perceptor's optics slowly flicked down until they slighted upon the tip of Drift's spike which was already bubbling with more transfluid. Spreading his lips, Perceptor wrapped them about Drift's spike which instantly caused a reaction from the warrior. It was a soft moan, but for Drift, it was loud to Perceptor's audio receptors. Drift's spike felt even larger when pressed into his mouth, Perceptor thought.

"Nng, go on, Perceptor. . . Take in more. . . You know you can. . ." insisted Drift who was rubbing a hand over the back of Perceptor's helm.

To put it simply, it was hard for Perceptor given Drift's sheer girth, but he tried to, Drift had so pleased him and he wanted to please Drift in return. Perceptor tried to press the spike further, but it only bumped against the back of his oral cavity.

Suddenly, Drift's touch became gentle as Perceptor nearly gagged upon the thick spike. "Just relax Perceptor, you're making it harder than it is," came a sympathetic whisper from Drift. "Relax and my spike will slide right down your throat. . ." teased the warrior, but sweetly, not cruelly.

Unconsciously, Perceptor swallowed at Drift's words, while also half swallowing against the spike which caused the warrior to moan. Such a heady sound, Perceptor thought as he worked to relax his throat before nudging Drift's spike against it. Slowly it started to sink into his throat and the feeling was somewhat disconcerting, though not painful. . .just unusual. A strangled sound cut through his sensory grids from his audio receptors as Drift had tossed his helm back.

"That's it!" panted the mech, and Perceptor pressed onwards, encouraged by Drift's voice. A rush of air from Drift's intakes swirled about Perceptor's cheeks as he took in more. Finally, he reached a point where he swore he could take no more.

"Go up," Drift managed in a tight voice.

Up Perceptor went, until his mouth was right at the tip.

"Ah. . . Now down. . . use your glossa this time. . ."

The scientist did as he was told, going back down, wiggling his glossa over those deep, noticeable ridges. Another direction change from Drift caused him to draw his mouth up, and then back down before Drift stopped giving him directions, letting Perceptor go to it on his own. Stilted, stuttered sounds left Drift, they were quiet and nowhere near the sort of sounds Perceptor produced in pleasure, but the sounds were still intoxicating to Perceptor's audio receptors.

Yet soon those sounds were getting louder as Perceptor worked his mouth, his glossa and his throat over Drift's straining spike. Rubbing his hands over Drift's burning thighs, the scientist could feel the warrior go tense beneath him. Suddenly, heat hit the back of his throat as Drift hit his overload. Transfluid flowed down his throat and into Perceptor's tank as Drift howled in pleasure. Clawed digits scraped over Perceptor's helm as Drift went through those throes of pleasure, but the scientist was pleased, for once, he was pleased.

"Mmm. . . Good, good Perceptor," cooed Drift, panting as he helped Perceptor, who was also panting, off his spike.

Watching Drift with expectant optics, Perceptor waited as he sat back on his haunches. A grin worked over Drift's features as he leaned back in his chair for only a few minutes, waiting for his systems to return to normal."

"Now, I think someone might deserve a reward," Drift purred before standing, circling Perceptor with a wide smile.

Shivers of expectation worked down Perceptor's backstrut as the mech circled around him.

"On your hands and knees, Perceptor, aft in the air," Drift whispered almost faintly.

So excited, so needy, Perceptor instantly reacted, turning about and drawing himself on his hands and knees just as Drift had asked. Lifting his aft, he received a swat for his good behavior, but was hardly perturbed as Drift settled behind him.

"Good, good," came Drift's whispers as the warrior drew himself over Perceptor. The scientist felt yet another shiver as the closeness of Drift settled over him. Lubricant trickled down his valve as he felt Drift's intakes against his audio receptor.

"This time. . . I want you to scream 'Deadlock,' instead of 'Drift.'"