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"I should've stayed at the colony."
"Yes, that would obviously have been better for everyone."
Hard to believe you're stuck here with him of all people. Lord Starscream, what he insists on so vehemently, is probably the last bot you want to be stranded with in the middle of space. Returning from a diplomatic summit at a Galactic Council station, the Cybertronian ship you're on was not supposed to simply break down in an unknown space anomaly. Ever since the engines stopped working, the great Lord Starscream has been yelling at anyone and everyone unfortunate enough to cross his path, and if he keeps this up, he's going to blow a relay.
You, on the other hand, are sitting in his office, in one of those uncomfortable Cybertronian chairs in the corner, watching his latest meltdown with more disinterest than anything else. More importantly, you notice for the first time that his wings move almost hypnotically when he paces up and down. They're kind of... bouncy.
"You know, I fulfilled my diplomatic duty when I offered to drop you off at your little human colony on the way," he continues, while the floor in front of his desk now shows furrows from his pacing.
Hm. Is it just you, or is the Leader of Cybertron more agitated than usual? Normally, he would've burned out long ago. But now, in this pink fog you're trapped in, it's as if his anger burns endlessly, even though the engineering station reports that the systems should be back online in an hour or two.
"And I'm eternally grateful to you for taking me with you," you try to answer with as little sarcasm as possible while crossing your legs and taking a deep breath. Damn, why is it so hot in here? The sweat on your forehead is already starting to tickle your overly sensitive skin - and Starscream's incessant screaming isn't helping. On the contrary, for some reason, his ranting tirade only makes you want to piss him off even more.
"You should be!" He stops in front of his desk, his back to you, giving you a good look at his wings, which are twitching uncomfortably in the heat of the room. For a second, you wonder how sensitive they really are. You'd like to run your hands over the smooth design, just for fun. Just to see what kind of sounds you can coax out of this loudmouth. "I've deigned to open negotiations with the Galactic Council! I came crawling to them, and I had to beg them to even consider allowing Cybertron to join their stupid council!"
"I like it when you beg." The words come out of your mouth, driven by the heat in your lower body. Whatever caused this sudden burst of spite in you, it flows through your body like hot water; suddenly you don't care how irritating the Seeker is and how much you find his constant ranting annoying. It doesn't matter that he uses every opportunity to gain an advantage - because the only thing in your foggy head that's interesting enough to come into focus is the image of Starscream on his knees, begging you for sweet relief.
The thought alone makes you swallow hard.
"I- What did you just say?" Starscream stares at you with an expression that is impossible to interpret because he doesn't wear it often. Baffled is probably the best word. He even forgets for a moment that he is in the middle of an angry tirade, and his vents hiss quietly.
"You heard me." Okay, there's no going back now that your brain has decided to shamelessly hit on Lord Starscream in such an over-the-top way. If you back down now, you will lose all integrity and credibility for the future. You don't know what exactly makes you so bold, but it probably has something to do with that pink nebula the ship is stuck in. Whatever it is, it definitely makes you want to find a creative way to shut the Seeker up.
In one fluid motion, you stand up and walk straight toward him. Starscream is still staring at you, searching for words like 'How dare you' and 'Nobody talks to me like that' but instead of growling those half-sentences between his denta, his vents exhale a hot, deep breath that speaks for itself.
You stop a few steps in front of him and your body shakes a little, not with weakness but with bursting power and a heat that makes you want to open his interface plate yourself - but you control yourself and cross your arms over your chest instead. Your eyes look up into his faceplate, where the red optics narrow suspiciously. What a twist of fate that you come from the human colony in the middle of the galaxy, and that your people are taller than your ancestors on Earth - otherwise you probably wouldn't be able to nudge the glass of his cockpit.
"You heard exactly what I said, Starscream," you repeat. You deliberately leave out the 'Lord', and of course he notices. "It gives me great pleasure to see you on your knees begging."
"Wretched human-" he growls softly, but makes no move to shuffle away from you, nor does he push away your hand that is drawing invisible lines across his cockpit. "I could snap you like a twig."
"That's true," you admit with a nod. "You could do that. Or-" The smile on your face changes to a knowing grin. "Or you could get on your knees and we'll take a closer look at those 'diplomatic duties.'"
Wheww. You take a long breath to calm the wildly beating heart in your chest. You don't know how long you've been this brave and direct, but it feels good. It feels like control.
Eye contact between you and Starscream lasts at least 15 seconds. Red Optics scans you thoroughly, looking for any sign of treachery or mischief, but finds nothing. There is only a sincere desire to get rid of the unbearable heat in your body, and to have a little fun in the process. And the fact that pink transfluid is beginning to leak from the seams of his interface panel only underscores his own need.
There are only two ways this staring contest will end: either you turn around and leave this office before anyone gets hurt - or Starscream goes for it. You know which one you prefer.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Starscream's wings lower slightly and, to your honest surprise, he slowly kneels before you. The sight alone floods your already clouded brain with a rush of happy hormones and pure, uninhibited anticipation of what awaits the two of you. The excitement makes your own saliva flow as if you were sitting at a banquet; but before you feast, some rules must be established.
"You will obey me," you say as your hand gently lifts the bot's chin to look up at you from his place on the floor. "You will touch me only when I tell you to. You will speak only when I allow it, with one exception: If you feel uncomfortable, you will tell me immediately. Nod if you understand."
Starscream nods. With your hand on his jaw, you can feel the hydraulics tighten, and he is probably holding back biting words.
"I will make you feel good," you promise with a soft whisper in your voice, both reassuring and promising. Then you lean forward slightly. "But you gotta work for it."
At these words you hear the fierce hiss of his vents. It's good to know that he finds this as exciting as you do.
You walk around him with slow, leisurely steps, your hand moving away from his jaw. The edge of his breastplate, his shoulders and thrusters, down to his wings, which tremble so tantalizingly the closer you get.
"I've always wondered if you're sensitive here," you murmur to him. "I've heard rumors. That the wings of Seekers are ridiculously sensitive, so they can better read the air currents when they fly." A second hand is added and you trace the edges of his wings with your fingertips. The touch alone sends a violent shiver through the mechanical body in front of you. "Is that true, Starscream?"
He opens his mouth to make a snide remark, but then remembers the rules and just nods silently. Very good, that deserves a reward.
"Good to know." Your torso leans forward and you lightly scratch your fingernails across the alloy on the outside of the wings, drawing a deliciously heavy wheeze from the bot. His body tenses, the wingtips tremble ever so slightly, and something inside you sings at the realization of your effect on him. And as you run the palm of your hand down the length of his wings, applying a tiny bit of pressure to the base of the wings, you see out of the corner of your eye that Starscream's servos are clenching into fists.
"You're getting your fluids all over the floor." Your hands leave the delicate components and you complete the circuit of your toy until you are standing in front of him again. The pink liquid dripping from his interface panel forms a small puddle under his kneeling figure; he's obviously a little uncomfortable about that, but you can remedy that by distracting him.
"Oh my, Starscream, do you really need it that bad?" Your leg moves forward and the heel of your boot digs into his interface panel. You apply as much pressure as you can, since he's not exactly fragile. The brusque touch elicits a hoarse sound from the bot somewhere deep in his chassis, a mixture of growling and screaming that resonates hotly with the throbbing between your legs. And the more you lean into that touch, the more his vents run hot and the more he clenches his denta to keep a word from slipping out. But when you shift your weight onto your heel on his body, squirting some of the pink liquid from the panel's seams, a mechanical hand grabs your ankle, trying to increase the pressure even further.
"First offense," you snarl, glaring coldly at Starscream as he realizes his mistake and hastily releases your leg. With a jerk, you pull your leg up and kick him with full force - at least by your standards - in the chin, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards. For a moment, a small spark of worry sizzles in your chest, wondering if you might have been too rough right now - but before you can worry any further, two glowing red optics stare at you. Oh, he liked that?
Immediately, you follow suit and step forward, thundering your foot back onto the leaky interface panel and eliciting a hoarse, anguished groan from the bot below. The sound sends a tingly shiver up your spine, and you can clearly feel your underwear slowly but surely soaking up the moisture between your legs.
You really didn't expect Starscream to be so... erotic, but here you both are, hot and sweaty and ready to continue.
"Open up," you command him softly, pressing your foot harder into his crotch, then removing it to stand on two legs again. Starscream returns your fiery gaze with the eagerness of a bot who inwardly resolves to behave well, if only to find release at your hand; and with a soft click, the protective cover slides aside. His valve is literally dripping, and his spike is fully pressurized as soon as the panel is unlocked. The floor beneath him is once again drenched in the pink liquid, all for your pleasure.
"Just- look at you." You purr, joining Starscream on the floor in a controlled and elegant movement that exudes control. "So wet for a- what was that you said? Wretched human like me." As you climb over his mechanical body on all fours, your knee presses hard against his now exposed spike, drawing a soft whine from the bot. It's music to your ears.
"Be good, and maybe I'll stuff your valve with my whole hand, or with my whole arm," you murmur, pressing your knee further into his crotch, earning you more sweet, needy sounds. "Or maybe I'll be kind enough to ride you until you beg me to overload."
Your lips have reached his faceplate, and with the hand you're not using for support, you grab his chin again; Starscream's mouth is still slightly open from all the sighs, so you can easily slide your tongue into his mouth. Excitement pounds in your chest and crotch; you never thought Starscream would be a good kisser. To your honest surprise, however, he makes every effort to return your kiss with eagerness, enjoying the meeting of your hot tongue and his glossa to the fullest. One kiss follows another, at first a test of the limits of intimacy in this scenario, but then quickly transformed into a tool to make the bot moan softly.
The coolant from his jaw hydraulics tastes slightly bitter in your mouth, but that's easy to ignore when you jerk your knee higher and the bot lets out a surprised yet lustful yelp. When you pull away from his lips, you taste the combination of saliva and coolant and lick your upper lip while your diplomatic partner watches intently. He seems very interested in learning more about what the human mouth can do.
Lord Starscream, leader of Cybertron and former Decepticon, manipulator extraordinaire - and now putty in your hands. Wonderful, really. If you weren't so turned on, you'd probably chuckle at the thought.
"Will you be a good bot?" you ask after finally pulling away from his lips and looking into two bright red optics. An immediate nod is the answer, to which you hum contentedly in your chest. "Good."
Your knee moves away from his crotch and you sit up to take your place between his legs; Starscream straightens up on his elbows to watch you more closely. With great interest, your hand moves across his pelvic plates to his crotch, drawing invisible, hot lines in the metal; his alloy is smooth except for a few small notches and dents that can only be seen from a front row seat - like yours at this moment.
As you approach his spike and bend down, hands already reaching for their target, Starscream drops back to the ground, as if he can't believe how good it feels. It must be quite a shock to his world that an organic being like you can bring him to such ecstasy.
At the moment your lips warmly receive the tip of his spike, a sharp sound escapes from the bot, somewhere between a groan and the violent temperature regulation of his vents; followed by a soft curse, which you let pass for once because it's barely audible. You take him further into your mouth with your tongue on his spike, so warm and wet that the bot's hydraulics feel like stone. His whole body tenses at the sensation you give him. And the further you take the spike, the more desperate and pleasurable the sounds that come from the depths of his chassis, a wonderful mixture of moans and sighs, of crying and silent pleas not to stop. It must be hard for Starscream not to utter a word as he writhes under the combined movements of your mouth and hands.
Your right hand wanders off course and finds its way to his valve, which continues be coated in the pink liquid, now making its way down the inside of his thighs. Your position between his legs means that your own clothes are about to be soaked by the liquid - a good reason to stop for a moment.
A disappointed, protesting whine escapes the bot as you sit up and begin to remove your clothes piece by piece. You're embarrassed by how wet your underwear is by now, but with all the sweet sounds Starscream makes for you, it's no wonder you want to ride him until he offlines. But not yet, you remind yourself. You promised him a good time, and that's what he's going to get.
Naked and with sweaty, hot skin, you stand up, to the silent protest of the Seeker, whose spike twitches desperately.
"You may speak. The code for the door?" You walk to the control panel of the office door, with cool anticipation towards the bot. Now Starscream hesitates, because this is sensitive information - but a quick look at himself, covered in his own transfluid and a spike that desperately needs attention, makes the decision not too difficult.
"0-8-3-5-8-9-4-6," he says, and you lock the door with the code. Not that anyone should disturb the fun here. "Please-"
You immediately put your finger to your lips as you walk back to the writhing bot on the floor in the middle of the room. "Not another word. You want to behave, don't you?" What a sight he is. Starscream, your own personal plaything.
Instead of turning back to his twitching spike or dripping valve, you straddle his cockpit and gently rub your wet, aching folds against the glass. The cold material brings a small relief, so intense is the contrast between hot and cold. The throbbing in your sex, this intense need for a climax, is almost driving you crazy; and if you can't get at least a little attention, you'll might actually go insane.
With a gentle smile to hide the anticipation of what's to come, you slide further up until you're hovering just a few inches from his face.
"You have permission to touch me," you say hoarsely, sinking down until his lips greedily take hold of your crotch. Immediately, two surprisingly warm hands are on your thighs, holding you in place while his glossa slides over your folds, hungry to absorb your taste - causing you to tilt your head back and make a sound of deepest pleasure yourself. And with every little sigh, every moan, Starscream tries harder to satisfy you with his mouth.
His glossa carefully explores which areas are most sensitive and elicit those delightful, raspy sighs from you. When the mechanical muscle enters you, it's noted as very positively as you let out a soft cry and arch your back. Again and again he plunges into your depths, only to emerge and lick your folds and clit with his entire glossa, in such a prolonged and obscene motion that you have to pull yourself together not to climax here and now.
"S-Stop," you tell him, simply because you don't think you can take much more of this without tripping over the edge. Starscream obeys, and you get up on shaky legs to stand over him, memorizing the sight in case he gets on your nerves again in the future: Lord Starscream, the faceplate smeared with your bodily fluids and optics dark with lust, with a spark in them that few have ever seen.
"You did well," you praise the bot generously, feeling a slight tingle between your legs - impatience. You want to push him to the limit and then make him beg for overload. "Shall I reward you?"
"Please-" The word slips out, so fast and so desperate that he can't stop it. His eyes widen slightly as he realizes his mistake and immediately presses his lips together. The corners of your mouth turn into a slight grin.
"Second offense," you purr and climb down from his chest plate to take up position between his legs again. "What do we do now, I wonder? A little teasing, perhaps?"
You run your hand over your sex to collect the mixture of organic bodily fluids and Cybertronian oral coolant; with your hand wet and a little sticky, attention turns to the node above Starscream's valve. His hip lifts reflexively as your warm hand finds the sensitive spot and rubs gently. With the utmost caution, your fingertips circle the node, then dig into his valve, drawing a moan from the bot that is a full octave higher than any sound he has made before. First two fingers, then three; as deep as you can, you slide your hand into him, accompanied by bending down and wrapping your lips around his node. At the contact of your warm mouth on that sensitive spot, Starscream almost screams, and his spike twitches desperately.
His valve tightens around your hand, and though you notice the difference from the human counterpart of this sexual organ, Starscream responds to the scissoring as a human would. He rewards your efforts with increased sighs and an occasional whimper, a silent plea for release. The more you lick and suck at the sensitive node, the more erratic the breathing from his vents becomes; by now he's panting because his system's temperature control can no longer keep up with the heat your activity is generating. On the inside, however, you agree: you need your climax, too, because the heat in a body becomes unbearable.
Your hand withdraws from his valve, just as your diligent tongue withdraws from the node; a protesting whimper escapes from the Seeker, so pathetic and begging that your sex throbs violently. With a smug grin, you take pleasure in the sight of him writhing and his uselessly twitching spike with a bead of transfluid at the tip. Seeing Starscream like this, so helpless against your touch, is a good foundation for a damn good orgasm.
"Are you going to behave now?" You ask, climbing up the frame so you can sit on his hip, just behind his spike. As your fingertips play with the first drop of transfluid from it, spreading it over his spike, Starscream just nods violently and with weak optics. His gaze is fixed on your hand playing with his spike, and his lips form empty words, but they are clearly recognizable as a silent plea for mercy.
"Good." You push yourself up slightly with your legs and guide his spike to your entrance with your hand, before slowly and deliberately lowering yourself onto it. Without much preparation, you have to take it slowly, so it takes a few seconds before you can take in more than just the tip. It takes a bit of work and gritting your teeth - after all, the bot is still much bigger than you - but determination and pure lust in your veins are good motivators.
"You fill me so well," you praise him, moving your pelvis until the slight pain in your abdomen disappears. "As a reward, you may touch me."
Immediately, two large hands are on your body, running greedily, hungrily over the sweat-soaked skin. Starscream sits up slightly to lick over your chest, to rest his helm on your shoulder and to nibble at your neck - anything, as long as it expresses his need. That, and to show that he has rarely felt so good when interfacing.
"Okay," you say quietly, after several minutes of labored breathing, when you finally allow yourself to settle fully on his spike. It feels ridiculously tight, so full, but the pleasure swallows the underlying pain so quickly that all you can think about is finally climaxing.
At your command, Starscream begins to move his pelvis, thrusting into you, slowly at first, then faster and faster, each thrust a little slice of heaven and a relief for tortured nerves after something so boring like a diplomatic mission. The bot is already at the limit of his stamina, the way he clings to your fragile body. He supports himself with one hand to give you the best possible angle, but he has his free arm wrapped around your waist so that, in addition to his thrusts, he can pull you down onto his spike with every movement.
Your bodies move in unison, making obscene sounds due to the fluids between you, as well as the bot's moans and your own exhausted gasps. Your throat is dry and irritated as you forcefully inhale with each thrust. Soft, human hands can barely find a grip, but when you grab one of his wings, you elicit something between a scream and a moan from Starscream, so deep and throaty that it draws a moan from your lips as well.
The hot air that comes out of his vents in time with your movements settles on your skin, making the growing heat unbearable. Damn, you can't hold out much longer yourself, that's how hard Starscream is working into you. You have to give him credit for his stamina, but his increasingly erratic movements, the stiff jaw hydraulics and the offline optics reveal that he's struggling to not climax, too.
"Talk to me. Do you want to overload?" you manage with your last ounce of strength.
His entire frame shakes, and the bot coughs a gasp that should be answer enough. "Yes-!" he spits.
"Beg for it." Your hand finds his jaw and you lift his faceplate slightly, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Beg."
"P-Please! I- Please, I need-" Starscream pushes against your movements, his chassis crackling softly with the charge that has been building underneath. His spike reaches so deep that you can almost see stars dancing when you close your eyes. "Please let me overload!"
"Such a good bot," you purr, and speed up again, ramming your pelvis against his. "Begging so well. Come on, Starscream, overload for me."
The Seeker moans your name with a heavy static in his voice, his arm nearly crushing your chest as he thrusts into you one last time, then blows air out of his vents so hard that a pleasant breeze creeps over your sweat-soaked skin. The sight of the bot beneath you, returning your fiery gaze with a soft, exhausted gasp - coupled with the knowledge that you really gave him a good time - is enough to pull you over the edge. With a long, relieved sigh, the construct of heat and lust inside you collapses like a knot being untied; and warm, pounding waves of pleasure wash over you as you ride the feeling out on his spike.
It takes a few seconds for either of you to move. Gasping for breath, you lean your forehead against his helm, where you're surprised by a brief but very deep kiss. With less fire, but a certain intimacy you can't deny.
"Are you okay?" you ask hoarsely, and Starscream lets out a slight snort.
"Of course I am." Despite the curt reply, it's clear he appreciates the question. His eyes quickly glance at your body. "You?"
"Never felt better." You place your hands on his shoulders and stand up, knees shaky and a little impressed by the amount of transfluid now running down the insides of your legs. The sight of the Seeker's fluid making its way down you in fine trickles is almost enough to send another surge of heat through your body. Just almost, though - the size of his spike now makes itself felt in retrospect with a dull pain in your lower body.
"I-" Starscream begins, but then stops himself. After a second of hesitation, he nods in the direction of the door on the other side of the office. "My habitation suite, with a private wash rack. I'll clean up this mess now-" He makes a wavy hand gesture that describes the mixture of your bodily fluids on his body as a whole. "So, uhm, feel free to join me."
A diplomatic offer, considering he was just buried deep inside you. And an offer you accept with a nod.
"You know, I like it when you shut up for a change," you tease him as you gather your clothes. Starscream rolls his optics and shoots you a look that is pure venom.
"Don't push your luck."