Heads up, there are some mentions of Starscream/Megatron in this chapter, though nothing graphic.
A moment here to touch base on anatomy and sexual behaviors (as I see them) - I envision Cybertronians to be 'single sex', in a sense. Their designations as mech or femme have more to do with frame type than actual parts, as I feel they would all have both. Being a 'bottom' or 'top' would be circumstantial and could change with each interaction or even between partners, depending on compatibility based on size. A 'bottom' would be the more vulnerable position, therefor I envision Megatron as almost exclusively a top, since he's a megalomaniac with an unquenchable thirst for power and control.
Now, onward. More smug, despicable goodness...
Eager talons tapped against the control panel, the warlord's optics following the flow of life-giving energon as it pumped through the fluid lines connected to his prisoner. The Prime's vitals began to rise, and his prostrate form lurched against a multitude of restraints. Satisfied it was enough for Optimus to maintain wakefulness, Megatron stemmed the flow and approached the barely conscious mech.
He observed for a moment, his processor tumbling over the desire to reach into his chassis and crush his weakly beating spark. Yet he would not, no... killing him now was too merciful a fate for this... traitor. A bot he once called brother, who stole the gladiator's dreams and made them his own. He would eventually have to kill him, he knew... but that could wait. When he succeeded in erasing the rest of Optimus' pitiful little following, then and only then, he would extinguish the last of the Primes once and for all.
A heavy creak and a low groan signalled his prisoner's lucidity, and Megatron grinned as he greeted his oldest adversary. "It has been too long since last we spoke. You must forgive me, I have been... occupied."
Optimus strained to hold his helm upright, fixing his wavering gaze on the deranged tyrant. Time... had no meaning to him now, his only conscious moments being those the Decepticon leader graced him with... usually to gloat over something. He did not bother to respond, having little energy for Megatron's games.
A slow, rumbling laugh slid from between fanged denta. "Come now, no need to look so grim. I have some news I felt might lift your spirits."
He stepped closer, leaning forward so he could more clearly observe his captive's reaction. "Another of your motley crew has survived."
Despite himself, Optimus strained closer, his gaze meeting Megatron's. He knew he was playing right into the warlord's servos, but he needed to know. "W-Who?" he rasped, vocal processor badly underused.
His countenance was decidedly smug as he revealed, "Your little two-wheeler has been a guest in my stronghold for some time now."
He was mildly impressed by the sudden movement from the previously still mech, but his surprise was quickly replaced with delight as the Prime's badly worn frame failed him, his bulk going slack in the restraints after a few kliks of pitiful struggling. His short bark of laughter was paired with a vicious smirk. "I had thought it might bring you a measure of comfort to know that she lives, but it would appear you are quite distressed."
"Please... leave h-her..." he pleaded, straining to get the words out.
Megatron righted himself, turning back to the console. "So you knew of my interest... hnnn... not surprising. You always were such an astute observer. Don't fret for the little femme, I have no intentions of ending her. I've been keeping her entertained... and she has been a rather engaging source of entertainment as well."
His optics scanned the monitor as his prisoner's vitals went up, the sounds of his struggles renewing. "Now, now... you are in no shape to be straining yourself in such a way, Optimus. You need to rest."
He could hear the muffled pleads for him to stop as he reached out, servo hovering over the controls. Again the Prime pleaded for him to leave his former companion be, and he threw a knowing look over his spiked pauldron as he replied, "I'm afraid I cannot. You know how I love a good challenge."
The look Optimus shot him, the desperation and fear etched so plainly on his normally stoic countenance, was one Megatron would relish for a long time to come. Reversing the energon feed, he watched as life was literally pulled from his once fearsome adversary, stopping only when his optics flickered out, leaving him with just enough to remain in a suspended state of unconsciousness, barely online.
He stepped from the room, casting a passing glance at the small group that waited patiently in the hall. Motioning with a nod that they were to return to their duties, he continued on down the dimly lit corridor. He heard them all shuffle hastily back in, his mind wandering to his other captive, mulling over the progress he'd made in fracturing her resolve. Slowly she was falling apart, and he knew from experience it wouldn't take much more for her to break completely. He would have to ensure he had some choice footage of the spirited femme to show his ally-turned-enemy for his next visit, his lines humming at the thought. How it would crush Optimus to see his brave little soldier writhing beneath his vicious talons, to hear her smooth, confident voice cracking with pain and dark pleasure and self loathing.
A part of him wished very much that he could orchestrate a live demonstration, but he knew he could not risk it. He did not wish to give her even a sliver of hope. She believed Optimus to be dead. It needed to stay that way for his plans to go smoothly. The more alone she thought she was, the more assured his victory.
But ohhh... the thought of paying the Prime a visit with his newly broken pet in tow, collared and leashed, quiet and obedient. His spike was nearly fully pressurized at this point, straining against its casing. He needed to take care of that. Perhaps he would pay his second in command a visit once he'd seen to his more pressing duties.
There were still scattered Autobots to locate and extinguish, and he preferred to do so before they could fully regroup and pose a more considerable threat to his regime. It had been some time since they'd had visual confirmation of any of the others, a troubling development. The only reason they'd been able to capture Arcee was because of how very desperate she'd been for resources. If the others had stopped attacking and pilfering his supply sites, it likely meant they had procured their own, and were biding their time until their forces were strong enough to launch other such assaults.
He collected his troubled thoughts as he stepped into the central control room, reminded himself with utmost certainty that victory was already theirs, and these were mere loose ends to tie. His subordinates filed around him, never daring to pass too close, each of them working tirelessly under his orders. He needed to be patient, as he had always been. Soon enough the final pieces of the puzzle would fall into place, and then none could hope to oppose him.
Feedback and questions are always welcome.