Author: gatekat and femme4jack
Pairing: Skyfire/Superion/Defensor, Autobot Orgy
Rating: NC-17 mech/mech, male/female
Codes: Crack, Slash, Het, Mechpreg, PnP, Sticky, Spark-sex, Size-kink, First Times, Orgy, Incest, Twincest, AU for ignoring the 1984 movie completely, Writers being lazy about language (just like the show)
Summary: This was a scene in the Gentle Giant expanded story, but we agreed that its cracky nature didn't really belong. So it's here as a bit of orgy crack. Face it, it's really fun to break Spike's organic brain.
Notes: klik = 1 minute; breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycles
~text~ bond/hardline talk
Gentle Giant (the crack orgy scene)
Wheeljack pushed his way toward his friend and sometimes lover through the crowd of gathered mechs, noting with some amusement that Bumblebee had just returned from picking up Spike from college. The young human male and his mate, Carly, were emerging from the VW looking shell-shocked. Primus, the scout was going to have some massive explaining to do, no pun intended.
It was no surprise that every available mech not on critical duty had managed to gather outside the hanger even faster than they would have with the battle alarm shrieking through their comms. As Sparkplug had once said, the Autobots seemed to have a near-psychic ability when it came to gossip. In this case, his name was Blaster.
"Looks like the kids are all grown up," Ratchet said casually, his arms folded as he watched his lover and the gestalt kiss, the contact experimental but hot with desire.
"I'm such a proud papa," Wheeljack chuckled, wrapping his arms around his friend from behind in a mixture of support, comfort, and desire as his fans kicked in. Skyfire was clinging to the combiner who was well over twice his height, kissing him desperately as glossa larger than some mech's frames slid across the shuttle's lips.
"How are you doing, Ratch?" he asked softly enough that only the CMO's audios would pick up the question.
"Still a little sore, but so very worth it," he rumbled, his engine purring and fans buzzing softly as he leaned into the contact slightly. "When he's not being overridden by code, I could get very used to having him."
"He made a good choice," Wheeljack said earnestly, without a hint of jealousy. "One that did not surprise me in the least. He's been watching you ever since we rescued him from the ice. Hey, just think, in human terms, I'm going to be an uncle and a grandfather to some of those little scraplets."
However Ratchet might have responded next was lost in Superion's roar accompanied by enough shaking of ground that the unaware might have feared Saint Hilary was going to explode again.
"If that's just plugging in, the overload is going to be heard in Seattle," Wheeljack chuckled and pressed a little closer to Ratchet's back.
"Generative code is an amazing experience," Ratchet murmured, his optics locked on the vision of his lover, the carrier of his sparklings, lost in the rapture of a generative interface that had only just begun.
Superion's interface cover slid back, his spike sliding free to bump against Skyfire's panel. The size of it was more than enough to cause several mechs to shift uncomfortably, but Skyfire let out a rumbling moan of anticipation that his wings reinforced.
"Holy shit!" a human voice squeaked from nearby, eliciting a number of chuckles from mechs. Spike Witwicky, hoisted onto Bumblebee's shoulder, looked white as a sheet, while his girlfriend, Carly, was leaning forward, her eyes dilated and pulse increasingly rapidly from her protected spot on Bluestreak.
"Size is proportional," Wheeljack called over to them, his helm fins flashing merrily. "He'd look funny with one for a smaller mech."
"But ... but ... where does he KEEP it, when he isn't being ... you know ... Superion?" Spike managed to ask, desperately looking anywhere but the disturbingly erotic scene they happened to have driven into that evening. The full moon was doing nothing to hide the activities as Skyfire used his powerful thrusters to hover at Superion's spike-level and begin to lick its truly massive length with sensuous silver glossa that suddenly looked small in comparison.
Spike's question led to another burst of chuckles, along with suggestions being shouted out from all quarters.
"Silverbolt has an extra big one - didn't ya know that? Why he is so afraid of heights - it really weighs him down." Jazz called over.
"Don't mess with the kid. Didn't you ever wonder what else Prime's trailer gets used for? Well, now you know," offered Hound.
"It's a sixth Aerialbot we don't like to talk about," Bumblebee explained in a meant to be overheard whisper. "His name is Skyspike."
That created a roar of laughter from all quarters and catcalls of 'good one'.
"Same place as Prime's trailer goes, I bet," Carly whispered, her eyes still locked on the two giant lovers. "But the Aerialbots, they're so young," she shot a glance at Bumblebee. "How ... do they even understand this?"
"Oh, they were sparked as adult mechs, Carly, not sparklings," Bluestreak began to explain. "Remember, they needed to be able to fight right away, and a sparkling wouldn't have the proper coding for combat. And all of them had been drones before Jack rebuilt them, so even if they weren't fully self aware before, they had some intelligence and all their memories cores - not like a sparkling that is framed with just basic code. And we just don't have the same stigmas about this stuff that you do ... I mean you humans in general, not you in particular because I know you don't have any stigmas about mating! You do it all the time! For us, it isn't about age. It is about what your processor can handle. Jack coded them in hopes that they'd be a gestalt, and Vector Sigma gave them sparks that were already bonded, so they've been interfacing with each other ever since they came online. In fact, one time I walked in on Wheeljack giving them a lesson..."
"What Bluestreak is trying to say," Wheeljack interrupted, his finials continuing to flash gleefully as Skyfire took the very tip of Superion's spike into his mouth, "is that I would never create mechs who could fight but not 'face, nor would I allow them to remain naive about such an important part of their functioning, especially as a gestalt. They came online with all of the proper coding to be fully functional," he added.
"Now back up a sec" Spike protested while Carly opened and closed her mouth repeatedly. "A lesson? Aren't you ... like ... their dad?" the last word was said at such a high register it was almost like he had gone through reverse puberty.
"We don't have those stigmas either," Bumblebee snickered at his friend. "There's no genetic relation, no danger of creating a sparkling or risk even if a sparkling was somehow created. We never had any reason to object to that kind of interaction."
"Many newly upgraded mechlings go to their creators to learn about interfacing before they experiment with their own age group," Mirage spoke evenly. "Among some classes it was a hired position; one of great respect and great expectations."
"Mmm, I actually like that idea," Carly said in a dreamy tone. "Not the parent part - sorry Jack - it doesn't matter how much I try wrap my head around it and remind myself that incest doesn't really exist for you guys, my poor squishy brain just can't take it. But the idea of an older, experienced, handsome man, hired to show me the time of my life? That would have been amazing."
"Hey!" Spike squeaked again.
"Oh, relax Spike, I was your older, experienced woman," she said crossly, "it would have just made me even better at teaching you to be a man."
"Would you stop talking like that in front of the bots?" the young man hissed, turning beet red, leading to even more laughter.
"Hush - watch and learn, little Spike," Bumblebee teased his charge. There was a groan of appreciation through the crowd as Superion suddenly grabbed the giant who was less than half his size, pulled the shuttle's legs around his neck, and slid a truly enormous glossa into his valve to begin stretching it.
"I can see your influence, there, Jack! You can come give us lessons any time!" someone shouted from behind them.
"Somebody better be recording this!" Another voice called out.
"Of course," Jazz moaned back, his back pressed against Prowl's front as the SIC held him securely and molested a sensory horn with his mouth.
"Ooo, is Defensor about to..."
"Yes!" a breathless gasp responded as the second gestalt pulled Superion forward, against him, and pressed large fingers into the shoulder joints where Fireflight and Slingshot jointed to Silverbolt.
"Wait ... isn't he supposed to be guarding..." Carly started to ask, her thighs noticeably clenched together.
"Trust me, if anyone does something to interrupt this, the pieces we'd leave would be too small to smelt," Hound's normally gentle voice sounded almost rabid. It was no surprise to anyone present, aside from the hapless humans, that is, that Mirage was suddenly flat on his back, being worked over in all the best ways by a creature of the wild ... and that the noble wasn't making a single objection.
It would have stolen some attention, but at that moment, Defensor began running his glossa along the wide, sweeping expanse Skyfire's wings
The shuttle convulsed as much as he was able in the grip of the two much larger mechs, his voice a keen that soon rose above audio range while his engine's roar deepening below it.
With no apparent communication, Defensor helped Superion lay down, the flier-gestalt's glossa never leaving Skyfire's valve. Defensor didn't even wait for them to completely settle before he knelt between the spread legs made up of Skydive and Air Raid and pressed his spike into the slick space.
Spike gave another squeak, hissing at Carly. "Dude ... it is just so wrong for a guy to have a vag like that."
"Oh, put a sock in it, Spike, they aren't guys and it isn't a vag!" Carly snapped, leaning forward so far that Bluestreak was forced to wrap her in an energon restraint to keep her from falling to the ground. "Is ... is Superion going to try to fit in ... Skyfire's ... you know?" she asked the gray mech breathlessly.
"Valve, and oh yes it'll be a stretch. It'll be about as tight as it was for Ratchet to take Skyfire, I expect, but nothing that can't be handled with the right prep," he shivered in excitement, his doorwings quivering with pent up need he wasn't quite ready to beg to have dealt with. "It'll feel incredible, I bet, to be stretched that tight."
"Does ... the bigger one always top?" she asked, a tinge of fear on her voice, even with pheromones strong enough to be sensed in Vancouver spilling from her.
"Oh no it goes both ways. Some mechs prefer their spike or valve but there's no reason for one or another to top or bottom, like you say, it's not inherent in us like it is in organics, you know? I've heard of those who even got their interface upgrade changed out because they bonded with someone of a very different size. I don't think it's happened in a long time, well no one's bonded in a long time either, but it's no more integrated into our frames than Sideswipe's jetpack ... well, maybe a little more. My doorwings would be harder to replace."
"Oh," was all Carly managed, hardly able to hear herself with the roars of gestalts and the clangingly erotic sounds of metal on metal. In the moonlit darkness she could see blue lightening stroking all three frames, as well as the frames of many around them, charges desperate to escape, arcing from one frame to another.
She glanced over at her boyfriend, who was hiding his eyes and muttering to an increasingly irritated-looking Bumblebee. Spike really didn't live up to the double entendre his nickname had become ... or maybe he did if you considered that they all called him 'little Spike'. The scene in front of her was so not helping with her slight annoyance with that fact.
"If you want to put me down ... I'll distract Spike so you and Bee can ... have some fun," she offered when a particularly sharp jolt stung her thigh.
"Thank you," he nearly moaned and put her down next to a surprised Spike before tackling his lover with a hard kiss and eager hands, his doorwings pressed downwards hard to put as much of them as possible in Bumblebee's reach.
Carly and Spike looked at one another awkwardly, blushing, shuffling their feet. All around them, fewer and fewer mechs were left standing, and those that were still standing weren't exactly innocently watching. While they both had known that the Autobots engaged in what Ratchet had so kindly referred to as tactile intimacy, and had even had the standard, hopelessly boring lecture on the details, neither had ever seen anything beyond the occasional touch and kiss among their alien friends.
And then they driven into an orgy bigger than the grand canyon.
"Do you want to go inside?" Spike whispered, pulling her a little closer.
"No!" she growled between clenched teeth, panting, pupils dilated wider than Spike had ever seen. In fact, they were far more dilated than they got when he and she...
He didn't want to think about that, so instead, he tried to figure out where to look.
Bumblebee swallowing Bluestreak's robocock and fingering his talkative friend's metal vag? No...
Mirage, who now had reversed things and had Hound on his back and was fucking the scout hard enough to make the ground shake. Ummmm. No. So did not need to see that.
Omega Supreme giving himself a hand job ... NO! Just no!
Prowl, Jazz and Prime in a daisy chain ... Fuck NO!
The Dinobots ... whimper
The twins ... oh dear God Sunstreaker had Sideswipe's shoulders and face pressed to the ground with his ass in the air. It would have looked like rape if not for the noises Sideswipe was making. Tracks was either going to make it a threesome or get himself killed as he lined up with Sunstreaker from behind.
What was Springer doing with Arcee and Hot Rod? And why was Kup walking up to join Prime's party, and when had Ultra Magnus started fucking Prime.
Ratchet and Wheeljack were going at it like dogs in heat ... ewww, that was worse than walking in on his dad, who at the moment ... oh shit ... he did NOT need to see his Dad gleefully videoing the entire shebang ... or hebang ... or whatever the hell this was.
So instead he looked back at the main attraction ... where Superion now was carefully spreading Skyfire wide enough to fit just the tip of his ... metal ... schlong-thing, their chestplates were parting ... and Defensor was trying to get even more in on the act, parting his as well, offering cables and ports and ... was there anything these robots wouldn't do?
He tore his eyes from the tableaux and looked at Carly, only to find her sitting on her ass, one hand up her shirt and the other working into her jeans as she shook, her eyes locked on the two gestalts and shuttle that had somehow taken the entire robo-schlong into his robo-cooch, leaning forward at an angle to allow both gestalts to join his spark in a merge.
Something in the teen finally broke, and he began to laugh so hard that tears were running down his face. He pulled Carly to himself, nuzzling her neck, his hand joining hers in her pants as the entire base seemed to explode in keens and groans and roars so loud that his ears were likely to be ringing for the rest of his minuscule existence.
She was fast to shift her attention to getting his pants off, along with hers, and pushed him to the ground. Her eyes were wide, nearly black, panting as heavily as she usually did after the fun.