As promised, this one is indeed longer. Enjoy. Additionally, gets a bit more graphic here. Be warned.
She flit in and out of wakefulness, the deep and impermeable darkness making it nearly impossible to gauge time. It was both terrifying and disorienting, the lack of anything to anchor herself to visually making it hard to decipher when she passed back and forth between recharge and awareness. Was this all a dream? A twisted, fear fueled, psyche altering nightmare?
The exhausted bot felt herself jolt again, dental plates accidentally snapping together on the tip of her glossa. She cursed quietly. Slag. At least now she was certain she was awake. The tang of her own energon was no longer an unfamiliar taste, a sobering fact. The notion made her wonder how long it would be before she was reintroduced to one of Megatron's instruments of torture. They'd cycled through all of them three times now, she was sure. Any klik now his deranged laugh would slither into her audio processors and pain would take over.
The slender femme vented heavily… waiting for something to happen. But nothing did. She strained to pick up the sounds she'd grown accustomed to when in his presence... and found none of them.
Arcee groaned in relief, glad to have a moment of peace. She stretched slowly, trying to loosen the stiffness in her frame. Perhaps the Autobots had held him up again, allowing her a few precious moments of time to herself. Primus, she was sore everywhere. She didn't think there was a single part of her frame that didn't hurt. Rotating her helm gently, she muttered to herself in the darkness, "When this is all over, I'm sitting in an oil bath for an entire solar cycle."
When his deep, gravely voice responded from somewhere just to the side of her, somewhere far too close, she nearly dislocated a joint in her panicked attempt to distance herself, jerking away from him so abruptly it gave her vertigo.
"If you were to give up on this... hapless refusal of my command... I could easily afford you such luxuries."
Regaining her composure after a few deep vents, she snarled, "I don't want a damn thing from the likes of you."
His laughter was low... ominous. "Unfortunately for you, that is not what I have in mind. I have so very much left to offer you."
The tyrant's steps were thunderous as he paced around her form, and Arcee wondered how he had managed to stay so perfectly silent for so long. It was... frightening to know someone his size could become imperceptible. He came to a stop at the head of the berth, sending her self preservation instincts into an uproar. Having the enemy behind her, or above her – given her current state – only added to the anxiousness already coursing through her frame.
"Your participation has provided me with valuable insight into my theory, something I will be sure to use in future... endeavors."
Torture. She didn't know why he didn't just say it, since he was so fond of inflicting it. She pitied whatever bot he got his oily servos on next.
"However..." Megatron paused, his tone thoughtful as he lowered his talons to her chestplate, parting them to reveal the shimmering blue orb within. He took in the way her features pinched as she vented sharply, reveling in her discomfort. "I feel as though we have yet to explore the fullest potential of your condition. We have seen how blindness heightens the senses when responding to pain... but what about pleasure?"
She wanted to retch at the way his voice dropped an octave as he hummed the last part of that sentence, her entire frame crawling as she steeled herself to what was about to happen.
"Beautiful," he murmured, watching the flare of her rapidly fluttering spark. Again he traced the outer lining of its chamber, rewarded with her muffled groan. "I don't think I'll ever tire of gazing upon you like this. Open, pulsing. Mine to explore."
"I'm not yours," Arcee insisted hotly, twisting beneath his grasp.
"Denying it is futile," he chastised. "Especially when you're splayed before me as you are, squirming beneath my touch."
The tip of one large digit dipped further, scraping sensitive lining and making pure sensation rip through her chassis.
He made a noise that sounded somewhat perturbed. "Yet their size makes them rather cumbersome for this particular activity. I think, perhaps, I may need to employ the assistance of someone with far more nimble digits to explore the furthest reaches of my little experiment."
Arcee heard the quiet, measured steps as they approached, dread filling her as she recognized the gait. How long had he been there? Oh Primus, he wouldn't... no. "Get away from me!" the femme snarled, frantic.
"Don't fret, Arcee. I've never met a mech with more capable servos than Soundwave. He'll take good care of you," the looming warlord chuckled, watching his chief of surveillance prowl alongside the captive. His sleek black frame curled over her prostrate form as he reached out.
When the first touch came, it was feather light, starting just below her spark chamber and tracing the perimeter with tedious slowness. Unwanted pleasure coiled inside of her like a serpent, and like fangs two of his long, thin digits sunk into her, grazing along her spark casing, probing far deeper than Megatron could have ever reached. She gasped helplessly against the onslaught, arching up off the berth before dropping down again. She hated how little control she had over her reactions. Hated that she knew her captor's perverse red optics were staring at her as Soundwave wrenched pleasure from her unwilling frame. She pulled her features taut, willed herself not to respond, doing her best to muffle every little sound that tried to escape her.
The towering mech watched, mildly impressed as his prisoner made a good effort of fighting the affects of his assistant's ministrations. But her stubbornness was beginning to bore him. He knew how to fix that. "It would appear... more stimulus is needed."
His immense, clawed servo hovered over her, drifting down to the point on her frame where all of the maddening sensation Soundwave was forcing upon her was beginning to build. A gentle swipe was all it took to cause the layers of protective plating concealing her valve to retract. Arcee tried to tilt herself away from his touch, to shield herself from them, but strapped to the berth as she was, there was no evading it. She stopped moving as those deadly points grazed her pelvic seams and along her opening, clenching her sightless optics shut.
The tyrant withdrew, a smile gracing his scarred face plate as he regarded the glimmer of lubricant gracing his servo. Again he touched her, but this time added the slightest bit of pressure, forcing the tip of one digit inside.
Pain lanced up her frame at the intrusion, the sharp appendage threatening to tear her interior lining if he did not desist. She gasped in alarm, choking out, "S-Stop! Please, stop!"
His optics glowed. "I don't know which I prefer more. Your screaming... or your begging."
Despite the pain, Soundwave continued to pluck at her spark casing with utmost precision, tearing her mind between the pain and pleasure. Unintentional gasps and whimpers were escaping her, her fans kicking on as her frame began to heat up.
Megatron watched the scene with rapt attention, marveling over their difference in size once again. He would quite literally rip her apart if he attempted anything more, a thought that was both infuriating and arousing. Withdrawing, he glanced at the slender black mech across from him, gesturing with a nod for him to take over.
She couldn't see it, but she could hear the quiet metallic whisper of one of the Decepticon's extra appendage as it emerged from his frame, realizing instantly what he meant to do. "Keep that away from me!"
The heated shout turned into a shrill cry as she felt the thin, flexible tendrils at the end of the extremity tease the opening of her valve before slipping in, one by one. She could feel all of them writhing inside of her, she noted, horrified. He was everywhere, nudging every pleasure receptor she thought she had before discovering more. It was too much. Too much, too fast. She shook her helm feebly, every part of her straining and trembling as euphoria mounted, her processor stuttering as Soundwave forced her closer and closer to the edge. No amount of fighting could stop the scream that was wrenched from her as her overload hit her with sudden ferocity, and she hated her traitorous frame for daring to gain enjoyment from the touch of an enemy.
Her senses returned to her just in time for her to feel all of Soundwave's appendages leave her, and to hear Megatron's pleased, rumbling laughter.
"I don't know who enjoyed this more, Arcee, you or I? What would your precious Autobots think if they could see you now?"
She didn't reply, knowing that denial was a futile endeavor. He had just witnessed her shame, after all.
The mech dismissed his officer, letting his optics peruse her one more time. She looked delightfully debauched, splayed and shaking, leaking lubricant onto the berth beneath her. Turning from her, he called out as he took his leave, "Until next time, little one."
Arcee felt disgusting and exposed. He hadn't even bothered to correct her plating. If anyone decided to walk in – Knockout, Starscream, anyone – they would see her in this sorry state, would know what had happened. She'd never felt so helpless in all her life. She didn't know how long she laid there, spark fluttering in distress any time she heard the sound of someone passing by, but it certainly felt like cycles. The prostrate femme tried with everything in her to stay alert, but exhaustion won out in the end, and the last thought that filtered through her processor before she slipped into recharge was about her allies... if they would ever be able to forgive her for this.
The psychological game begins.