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Different desires - taming to hand
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Swindle gives them what they can't get elsewhere: their personal desires. It's not cheating. It's intensely personal, but it's business, too. They contract Swindle to give them what Reflector wants for themselves. His own involvement in the sessions is one of compliant behavior and availability, not his actual self. They don't care about him. For a price, he gives them what they crave, and they pay him for it because whatever it is that brings Megatron to them, it has little to do with their own needs.
Taming the warlord is fascinating in the same way delicately laying blackmail on the table is, but waiting with closed vents for an explosion that hasn't yet come isn't the same as mutual play. Sometimes, they think Megatron knows nothing beyond whatever nagging wish finally surfaced. It brought the tyrant to them, but they serve him. He's using them for his own needs. Pets generally do, but Reflector doesn't think Megatron knows about reciprocation. He likely doesn't know or care about owners searching for a pet who's into the same play.
Swindle, they think, was his tipping point. Discretion is all well and good, but with such a small group of Decepticons stuck on Earth, Swindle's service advertisements mean everyone can see what's for sale. The amount of mechs who leapt on the opportunity might have shocked more ignorant people, but Reflector knows why Swindle immediately became popular. It's hard to find someone who will submit. Decepticons generally swing toward owning. Those who like some kink in their play will admit to the dominant side of things long before hinting they want to be a toy mech.
Reflector admires Swindle for making a business opportunity out of what too many mechs see as an exploitable weakness. Being a pet is dangerous. Submissives aren't disposable, aren't automatically masochists, aren't automatically anything, but too many Decepticons won't grant them the respect necessary to recognize what they are.
It's a shame. Reflector is fascinated by the contrast of a functional dominant and submissive. The level of communication and respect between two or more mechs involved in powerplay creates a dynamic Reflector adores. The bargaining process itself is on par with the internal politics of the Decepticon ranks, but far more intimate. The hostility, among Decepticons, can be along the same level.
The fascinating part, for Reflector, is how a negotiated balance isn't usually visible. Predicting who can do what and who allows it can't be seen at first glance. The challenge of making it visible excites them. What can't be seen by the naked optic has to be brought out into the open by situation or setting, a story spelled out in the subjects' interaction, and Reflector finds it a more artistic endeavor than most of their wartime work.
They want to capture Swindle and all his buyers, some day. The different dynamics between toymech and clients beg to be photographed. They're not sure exactly what all of Swindle's clients demand in sessions, but the public sessions are enough to make them consider the other owners for a series. There seems to be a theme running through Swindle's return customers. Thundercracker and Astrotrain, even Blitzwing, hire the merchant for the pleasure they get from caring for him, in their individual ways. It's a common theme, but not one Reflector tires of framing in pictures.
Submissives require care from their dominants, and pets even more so. If the dominants don't give the care that's demanded, well, Megatron is the best example they have ever seen of how submission doesn't equal weakness. A dominant who doesn't respect Megatron will live just long enough to regret it.
Swindle's an example of submission in another direction. Megatron plays to specific kinks, although Reflector hasn't quite figured out what the kinks are. Incompatible owners gingerly feeling out what even Megatron isn't sure he wants out of them has nothing to do with what Reflector wants at all. Most of the time, a submissive is the center of attention, but a compromise for what the dominant wants is at least negotiated for if they're not a solid match of interests. Swindle, on the other hand, is a made pet. While the sessions he sells are still about him, they are tailored to whatever his clients want. The submissive becomes the dominant's ideal, no compromises.
There were pets for hire before the war, but Swindle's one of a kind, now. It's not surprising that he's in such high demand. He makes himself into whatever pet his buyers want, and the only kink Reflector's ever picked up off him is money lust. Pay him, and he'll be an empty vessel for an owner. He has boundaries and needs, but they're not related to the petplay he hires out for.
Swindle's selfish. It's to be expected. He's a Decepticon. Megatron is the epitome of that. It's a trial because Reflector is equally selfish. Multiply that by every Decepticon - probably every Autobot - out there, and Reflector wouldn't be surprised if there was a single successfully matched pet/owner pair still out there. One reason why Reflector finds powerplay dynamics to be so interesting to observe and catch on film is their rarity.
The only reason Megatron settles for them is because Reflector doesn't dare disappoint his leader. Survival trumps selfishness.
Also, Megatron is beautiful. He is strong. Reflector has long admired that, and being permitted to touch him the way they want sends their fans racing. Handling priceless art holds the same allure. The act of taking control is a risk, the power of knowing they could abuse what they held is a thrill, and touching something forbidden gives them a high. They would stroke and praise him for no other reason other than the way he looks on film afterward. It's what he wants, but they do get something from it, even if it's not quite what they wish they could have.
The evidence is turned over to him afterward, the digital and the physical, because it's for his benefit. It's for his pleasure, whatever this affair is, and he takes from them what they do their best to give.
What they keep is the memory of the pictures they took. That can't be erased. They remember. They savor the memories for their own reasons. On his terms, but they enjoy it nonetheless. They always watched him, and they will not give up freely given dominion over him simply because their personal, deeper desires aren't met. There are alternate means to get those.
Swindle serves to fulfill their cravings these days. He's convenient, and pliant as they test his limits. Their fetishes are mild, but they've known hiremechs to bolt at the smallest hint of discomfort. Swindle doesn't care as long as they agree to his contract. Spectro finds or makes the frills and laces, fascinated as ever by the foreign, the exotic, layered on familiar metal. Viewfinder contents himself with Swindle's expressive hands. Spyglass found something on Earth they'd never thought was an interest before it smacked them in the lens: rubber. Tires, clothing, and hands. Those are what Reflector enjoys. Those are what Megatron isn't giving them, but that's okay. That's just fine.
Earth days stretch time out impossibly long, somehow longer than the entire war has felt, and Reflector will take what they can get before reality comes crashing onto the small planet, ending this strange arrangement. They will gentle the twitching, wary harbinger of death and destruction who wants to kneel to them but isn't quite sure how. They will train him. They will show him how to submit to their hands, their words, their optics. He'll work out what he wants from them. He isn't the first pet they've guided.
The sessions aren't for them, not the way they'd want if this were an ideal relationship and both parties were getting what they wanted from each other, but still. Still, there is something here for them. Far be it from them to deny Megatron his needs. They will provide, as best they're able.
Then the first anonymous gift is given to Swindle, and Reflector wonders just who the gift is really for. They wonder if their desires aren't the only ones being hidden during the sessions they never speak of outside of the rooms Megatron summons them to.
Megatron rarely speaks. He takes orders. The warlord bends to their will and presses into their hands, but he doesn't often speak. If he wants something more than they're providing, they doubt he would outright tell them, and they're practical enough to be afraid of doing anything without him initiating it. Everything they've figured out so far has been done by cautious experiment and happenstance. They didn't connect his submission to Swindle's play, and they can't ask, won't demand.
What they can do is…introduce an idea. Just an idea.
"Let us take care of you," they croon in rough chorus when they start to ease him to his knees. He always, always must be coaxed down. It's a decision on his part, not something anyone can force, and he will bend his knees only when he wishes. Surrender is a conscious choice. It is a sweet ritual of taking control from him.
They do their best to soothe the caution in his optics. This is the most dangerous time. He never makes it easy to judge if he's subdued or impatient as they talk through the small script they've cobbled together to make this a routine. Routine is important. Slightly different words, said in the same rhythm and the same tone, give him a focus to settle into the right mindset. They gather up his power a strand at a time, taking it away as he releases it. A blank expression replaces haughty dignity, the micro-plates around his optics tightening up as they approach the border where Reflector delicately steps across the line from respectful subordinate Decepticon to master of their lord.
It's almost the flip of a switch, that second, like the moment when a model goes from a normal mech to a character in front of the camera. Mechanisms groan softly in the silver tyrant's hip as he shifts his weight to one leg and bends the other. Slow and grave, he lowers himself to the floor.
"Beautiful," they say in their chorus, and their optics are frankly appreciative. They run their gaze over him: a mighty leader balanced on one knee. Death kneels to them. Optimus Prime can't humble him this way. Starscream can only dream of what he gives them, voluntarily.
They reach out but stop, three hands hesitating back from familiarity. "You are," one of them says, "magnificent," the next continues, "this way," the last finishes. His optics dim, soaking in the heady admiration, and they give him more words to take in. Magnificent, beautiful, shining, proud, powerful, unyielding, and strong. He is all that and more, but their words aren't empty flattery. They narrate what they see, honesty twisted into persuasion, and he's lulled by the hypnotic sway of their patter.
His leading foot scrapes against the floor as he slowly shifts his weight, drawing it back, drawing it under, until he balances on both knees. The sway as he settles pushes him into their hands. They don't reach further and he doesn't actively press toward them. He naturally subsides into their hold. They, as a responsible dominant should, catch him. They support him, easing him down to sit back on his heels.
Now all of him is within their reach, and they take advantage of that. They pose him. They touch him, gentle but firm, as photographers of art handling a sculpture. They take pictures. Their hands direct him as much as the words they pour over him in a nonstop stream of feedback, praise, and scolding. They tell him what they see and want to see, and he follows their orders without question or rebellion.
They introduce a prop carefully, with no fanfare. It's a bell on a line hanging from a stick, like a fishing lure. Moving the stick dances the bell in merry jingles, fluttering the curled ribbons Spectro couldn't resist adding. When Spyglass flicks the stick, the bell flies through the air across the peripheral of Megatron's vision, and red optics jerk to the right. He seems startled by what he sees. It's something more appropriate for a game with Swindle, a petmech for rent, not for their commander, leader, and tyrant. It's a toy similar to what Swindle apparently found pinned to his door a couple weeks ago, an anonymous gift that may be wishful thinking.
They're going to find out.
Surprise melts back into the blank mask. They don't know what he's thinking. Do they presume too much? Is this disrespect? Viewfinder and Spectro ease apart, standing to either side of the kneeling mech. They can't stop him if he lashes out at their component, but they can stay out of his way and pick up the pieces any are left.
Spyglass twitches the stick. The bell jingles, rolling across the floor this time.
One large black hand lifts off a knee, but it pauses in midair. Tense, they wait.
Megatron curls the fingers of his hand, drawing his hand back toward his knee. It takes them almost too long to figure out it was supposed to be a pawing gesture. Megatron pawed at the toy.
"Good," they say through the shock of being uninjured. They guessed right! "Just like that." The small motion repeats, perhaps more forcefully, and Spectro drags the bell right in front of Megatron's knees. Red optics scrutinize their component before studying the bell. A clumsy patting gesture is made at the ribbons as they drag by on the floor, and they pile on the positive reinforcement. "Just like that. We're playing cute this time. Toy with it. Relax." He has to know he's doing what they want, or he'll falter. He has to hear their approval, relax into the orders, and know it's the right thing to do. Instant gratification is some playing away, no further. "Widen your optics. Blink. Let your lips part a little, like that, just a bit further. Perfect. Good, good. Come on, work with it. Always so serious. Let's try something more fun."
They smile as he bats at the toy this time. Dignity is difficult to let go, but he releases so quickly. They take it as he surrenders it, and they show their interest on their faces, push it into their voices. Yes, he's being good. He's doing what they want. Well done; good job; keep going.
It's clear he's eager, if awkward. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how to act. He wants to try, however, and they think he might be imitating the few times Swindle played toymech in his presence. They, in turn, play their own part.
The first time one of them dares laugh at a clumsy, strangely adorable lunge after the lure, he freezes. "Don't stop," they command, but it's halfway to a plea. "Keep moving. Roll over? Try bigger gestures. Move more. This is such a different look for you." It is. They don't mean that in a bad way. Next time, they'll bring some of their equipment and turn it into a session. Perhaps, just maybe, he'll allow them to elaborate on the idea. Spectro would love to make a collar. Viewfinder could use the excuse of handling a pet's 'paws' to get their hands on Megatron's.
They know, as he chases the toy in embarrassed spurts of movement, that the rusty-edged joy in his play will have to be handled gingerly. It will take time to introduce him to more. Today will be a trial on its own. They will have to gentle him back out of this headspace, back into a submissive instead of a pet, and from there, they'll have to respectfully step back into their roles of Decepticon and Decepticon leader. It'll be hard to do, and they won't really get anything from it, not like they get from Swindle. It's not their thing. They're not into petplay.
There's potential. They can recognize that and hope for more, but they won't press Megatron. It's up to him what they do, and that's fine. Swindle satisfies their needs. They don't need more than they already have.
They have wants as well. Megatron explores and experiments in how to give them control over him, and they take it. They want it.
Reflector rather thinks they could get into that.
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