Sweet Dreams - Fanfiction
Kaon was a magnificent city that spanned an entire universe. There were no boundaries (Provided you were Megatron), no laws (Once again, as long as you were Megatron), and none greater than Megatron (Which is self-evident to everyone there including Megatron). Wild Optimus Primes roamed the land, just waiting to be shot down. Such a land, such paradise! Walking about and defeating your enemies day after day after day, all wins and no losses (Unless you were someone other than Megatron, then it would be quite the opposite). Kaon truly was the greatest heaven one could ever experience (As long as you were Megatron. I’m sure you’ve got the picture by now.).
Kaon was also no stranger to odd happenings. They weren’t troublesome so much as they were strange. Some spots had dangerous levels of radiation with no effect to anyone who was exposed to it. Sometimes the land would rumble. Not an earthquake really, just gentle shaking that could even be called soothing. Strangest of all was the creature around Megatron’s neck, wrapped around like some sort of bizarre scarf.
They were dark-colored, snake-like creatures that had a certain texture to them if you looked closely enough. They made an alien-like clicking sound and oozed a soft layer of slime wherever they went. Most important of all, they liked Megatron. They really, really liked Megatron. Bothering him was at the very top of their to-do lists, and they were almost admirably good at their job.
Whenever he searched for more Primes to defeat, there they were. They followed at his feet like some sort of stray animal. They would happily click-click-click when he came into their view and followed him as quickly as they could. A thin trail of odd stuff was always left behind. It dirtied the perfect land of Kaon with every slither. Megatron was all-powerful however, and would surely exterminate them and their kind after he finished ridding the land of Optimuses.
The strange thing moved it’s tail (It’s head? He couldn’t tell) to the side of Megatron’s face. It rubbed up and down, getting even more of it’s vile slime onto him. He grabbed it and yanked at it, trying a few good times before ripping it off and tossing it to the ground. Did he actually have trouble tearing that one off of him? Were they getting stronger? It mattered not. Megatron was the most powerful in Kaon, no creature stood above him. The thing gave a few sad clicks as it squirmed on the ground. It was clearly hurt by the warlord’s rough treatment and obviously dying. Megatron went on with his business.
They came randomly throughout the day. They always managed to get to him before he could get to them, and they all were dead-set on smearing that terrible goop on his armor. They had become stronger somehow. Stronger than Megatron? Impossible. No one was stronger than Megatron. But they came close. At one point, one had managed to sneak up his leg. It nearly flung itself onto his codpiece, the other end of it gripping his thigh. When he attempted to pull it off, it clung on for dear life. It messily smeared it’s goo around his panel as the other end of it perversely felt up his upper thigh. The more he tried to rip it off, the more it seemed to enjoy itself. Megatron is the strongest in Kaon, so it goes without saying that he managed to rip it off. (And without his panel opening, too. How impressive!). He flung it to the ground and stared at the writhing creature with disgust.
He dared not acknowledge it, but his encounters with the tentacle creatures were becoming dangerous. If that one had been on any longer, he just might have retracted his panel by mistake. It would have made the scene unquestionably more awkward than it already was. The thought of that horrid, slug-like thing slobbering all over his cord with it’s vile goop painted a sickening picture in his head. Bleh. Disgusting.
Megatron soon learned much more about the tentacles. In fact, he learned so much that he immediately wished afterward that he could unlearn all of it.
In his glorious quest to exterminate all the primes in Kaon along with the few roaming autobots that joined them (Such a glorious quest), he ventured into a tunnel. Unlike all the other places in Kaon, these tunnels seemed void of tentacles. Magnificent. This was just the sort of rest he needed, and it seemed to make an excellent hide-out for foolish Primes that thought that they could hide from him.
He wandered the tunnels in anticipation. It was a bit hard to see, but movements throughout the tunnels suggested that he had company. What a thrilling day this had turned out to be. How long had it been since he had fought like this in the dark, stalking his prey with a wicked grin stretched across his face? How long had it been since he heard frightened scuffles to and fro, little pieces of foolish light coming from those who thought that they could get away with it? Coming even more often to his mind, how long had it been since he had reached out and successfully caught someone, hearing their terrified cries and screams echo throughout the tunnels to their cowardly, quickly-escaping teammates? The thought of Optimus Prime desperately wandering these tunnels and praying to all sorts of gods that he wasn’t found made Megatron as giddy as a sparkling.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are, Prime!” he called into the darkness. He was pleased to hear frightened noises ringing throughout the pitch-black tunnels…Oh? What was that? The noises stopped, but something sounded curious about them. He called out again in hopes of the sound repeating itself. “I know you’re in here, Prime. I’m coming for you!” To his amusement, the sound truly did imitate the one he first heard. It sounded wet and quick, almost like rain but not quite. That wasn’t what an Optimus Prime sounded like.
This was really starting to become interesting. If not an Optimus Prime, who was in here with Megatron? What fool had decided to take residence in the tunnels while the mighty Megatron hunted here? Whoever it was, they had a surprise coming for them. Just as he had hoped, he would soon meet them. More specifically, he would meet it.
Upon coming to a crossroad, he looked to his left. He started to see movement in the dark. Aha, so that’s where they were. He begrudgingly, silently commended them. They moved throughout the darkness so silently, but their faint movements could be easily picked up by eyes such as his. That was quite the good trick.
He started to stalk down the passage, ever silent. He had plans for this one. He would grab it (It mattered not where) and dent it into scrap with his powerful fists. It would be so pleasant to finally hear what they sounded like, not just in their worried movements that they had made earlier, but in how their breath would hitch and how their guttural sounds of pain would go from a crescendo to quiet, pitiful whispers of sorrow in their final moments. He felt a tingle of anticipation at the thought of fresh energon bathing his wrists.
He slowly started to realize that something was amiss. The darkness was moving. He couldn’t pick out one person. It was as if something was moving all around, silent and somewhat foreboding. Something shot towards him, causing him to grab at it. He had caught it, squeezing and feeling it out of curiosity. It was soft, squishy, and it gently pulsed in his hand. Annoyance started to well up in him when he felt something moist starting to dirty his hand.
Just as he had feared, it was a tentacle. He tightened his grip and tried to crush it, but it wouldn’t crush. The moist substance it sweated only covered his hand even more so. He tried a few more times before deciding to drop it. Megatron quickly discovered that it wouldn’t drop. Instead, it stuck to his hand and wrist like some sort of ridiculously strong glue. Even when he intently shook it, the tentacle didn’t give way. He really started to become short when it started to pull him even further into the darkness.
A surreal game of tug-o-war began. Whatever force Megatron put up, the tentacle would match. It was almost as if the thing was only humoring him by fighting back. This both outraged and interested him. A challenger to his might? Even if it was a tentacle, it never-the-less challenged him with this paltry game. After what could be considered a worthy time passed, it yanked him forward and into a wall.
The first few minutes for Megatron passed in a confused rage. For one thing, he hurt. It wasn’t enough for him to worry, but he hurt none the less, and it made him angry. Another thing was the wall itself and what it contained. It wasn’t hard, but somewhat cushy. It almost breathed against him. He didn’t check to see whether it was moving or not, as he had worse things to worry about. After getting at least half-situated among the goo, tentacles, and almost deafening clicks, Megatron realized that what he seen was not the darkness of a long tunnel, but a giant mass of moving tentacles.
They were more than excited to see him. Every one of them writhed in elation at finally finding the one that they had apparently longed for in their dungeon of a home. Their clicking made it sound as if a storm had contained itself in the soft thing that they were attached to. The wet stuff that all of them secreted started to run from the wall itself, carrying with it an odd, clear scent.
Megatron was stuck. He thrashed about, yet the wall and the tentacle-parasites attached to it held him down like thousands of strong hands. They all attempted to caress him, possibly calm him down. Megatron did exactly the opposite. He changed from trying to get away to wildly attacking. The wall started to lightly move as if it were some sort of diseased organ in it’s final throes, the clicking moving to wild screeching. Their host was being assaulted by claws and teeth and sharp ends, the heat of a fusion cannon starting to rise with a high-pitched battle cry.
To be completely frank, Megatron wasn’t exactly as self-assured as usual. The mysterious stuff oozing down his chest and currently being rubbed into nearly every part of him had to have had some purpose. He tried his best to prevent it from running into his mouth, but a bite had forced a bunch of the stuff in. The goo was sweet and delicious. It’s flavor was frighteningly welcoming.
The tentacles only produced more, rubbing it everywhere they could in haste. Megatron’s grunts and gruff cries of frustration were becoming more desperate and tired-sounding. Ripping himself from the wall was harder than he thought. His armor was just about covered in the suspicious goop, the warm stuff running down in large, clear globs. He couldn’t see anything, he was covered in goo, it was loud, and his attacks hardly had any effect on the sinister wall. His fusion cannon surely had caused some damage, but he was unable to tell just how much. It was time to take a short rest and think. He was the most powerful here; it wasn’t as if this wretched creature could actually kill him, right?
What in the universe was this stuff he was covered in, anyway? The scent had gotten stronger than when he had first been captured. It also had become hot and a tad thinner, it was almost as if he was receiving a massage. Now that he had started to calm down, the tentacles followed suit. It was strange of him to feel so tired. He had hardly started to really put up a fight, yet he felt exhausted. This could only be the fault of the substance currently dripping off of him.
He was completely covered in the tentacles, every part of the back of him nearly hidden with the disgusting things. He couldn’t move very much, especially with that one sticky tentacle still holding his arm to the wall. He rested the side of his face on the bulbous mass they held him against and gave a snort of annoyance.
They held him in a bizarre hug before beginning their work. They started with his arms, stroking up and down the sides. Tentacles ran and twisted through his fingers like liquid. They darted around in alert, insect-like patterns after feeling his hand tighten around them. They held tightly to his fusion canon, aiming it no place in particular.
They curled around his shoulder spikes like corkscrews and affectionately tickled his neck like a playful lover would. They panicked when he attempted to shift, but settled down when he rested against the wall once more. He was just a bull in the cage ready to be released, patiently waiting for the eight seconds where he’d have the upper-hand against his captor. He shook his neck and leaned his head back. It didn’t matter whether he opened or closed his optics, the scenery didn’t change. There was nothing but black. He screwed them shut to prevent the goo from getting into them.
The tentacles inspected every nook and cranny of his back, pressing and soothing any tender-feeling areas that they could find. They caressed recent war wounds with interest. Whenever he shifted away or gave a sound of disapproval, they strayed from the areas. His feet touched the ground, but the tentacles still fiercely held them to the wall, perhaps with even more power than the ones on his arms. They allowed him to move every once in a while, but held fast at any sign of struggling or attempts to move away from the wall.
Megatron was becoming sleepy. It was a strange feeling to have while in such danger, but it was as if he could have leaned against the wall and slept for eternity, the tentacles tending to him forever. The ones on his thighs and aft were exactly what was keeping him awake. They gave lighter touches than the other tentacles; it could even be called teasing. The tentacles on his sides and the back of his thighs took their time as they stroked across his armor. The ones working on the inner thighs used just their tips; the movements were nearly torturous as they prodded and flicked around absently. The ones on his aft were amorous. They messily smeared their goop around and inspected all they could. One was so bold as to actually smack him right on the rear, earning a minute or so of angered struggling from him.
He wasn’t quite able to tell when he started becoming aroused. The wet sound of the moist, sticky stuff that the tentacles rubbed onto him was loud and almost erotic. Every once in a while, some of the tentacles made their clicking sounds. It created a pleasant vibration, just like a hum. The tentacles spread his legs apart further and he complied, though still wary. He started back with his thrashing when they attempted to get to the front, the tentacles in his inner thighs opting to get to his panel. Megatron had a feeling that this is what they wanted all along. He didn’t know if the prospect enraged him, interested him, or both. His optics shot open, nothing but black.
The tentacles on his arms and his legs held on as if raping the Decepticon emperor meant the world to them. (Which it in fact, did.). They rose up in clicking again; the vibration was certainly noticeable now. Megatron gave a frustrated, quick huff followed by the cry of a not-over-yet brand of struggle. He pulled against the tentacles with all his might, only to find that a bunch of his might had disappeared after the goop was applied. He roared in frustration, trying for a good fifteen minutes or so to tear himself from the terrible wall and it’s inhabitants. His fight was cut short when a few tentacles began to pull at his knees. They forced him down to a kneeling position, pushing him down and slamming him against the wall when he tried to get up. For a while, Megatron found the once-tender tentacles just as enraged and wild as himself.
Just when he thought that there couldn’t be any more tentacles, a new wave flooded to the front of him. Unlike the ones in the back, they spared no time in getting to their work. They swarmed all over his chest, sloppily enjoying the goo that the wall had poured. A few swirled around the Decepticon insignia, but strayed away after some especially strong movements from Megatron. The ones on his sides migrated to the front, pulling his hips back as they spread his thighs even further. There were none on his codpiece, but it wouldn’t take much for his panel to snap open, especially with his cord pressing so hard against it.
He continued to fight them, but it was nearly impossible to go on. Every move he made pressed him into the touch of the squirming creatures; it did everything other than deterring them. Eventually he realized that he had begun to roll his hips. It must have told the tentacles that he was enjoying their molestation, as they started to move to his panel.
In one last try, Megatron gathered up all the power that he could, and tore himself from the wall. He struggled against the tentacles, which started screeching at this turn of events. They had actually started moving backward! Both parties shook in response to the power struggle that had started up. Megatron let out a war cry as a rival to their screeching, the slack they shown him only pushing him further.
They finally released him. Or, well, not exactly. The ones on his legs simply changed their position instead of letting go. To be more exact, they allowed him to fall back. The tentacle on his arm held as well, and it didn’t plan on setting him free any time soon. The ones still holding onto his legs kept him from moving any further away. He fired a few shots from his fusion cannon and attempted to use his claws to pry away from their host. To his horror, the floor had become just as cushiony as the wall had been. Why hadn’t he noticed this before?
The rain-like sound came back again. They came from the floor, gathering themselves to his arms, chest, and hips like disturbed ants in an invaded nest. He flailed and kicked at the wall, but as usual, it did nothing. They coiled around his arms as best they could and roughly forced them together above his head, holding them as tight as a wire. They shook and bubbled around his lower back, behind, and legs, trying their best to hold him still. Megatron refused to stop. He fought them in heated exhaustion, even if his mind was murky and his spike had pressurized to the point of being painful.
His mind warmed with relief when he found that the tentacles holding his feet were coming loose. He must have managed to pry the things from the wall. Now he had no trouble moving back, he just might get free! He fought to escape them as he tried to free his arms. They seemed to be stuck to him just like the one on his arm, which pushed forward to try and keep his arms on the floor. The tentacles found this to be a good time to roughly jerk his legs upward, the tentacles on his back and shoulders pushing his aft to the wall in front of them. He pushed the wall with his legs, lifting his behind off of the wall. Reinforcements grabbed out to his waist and rammed it back.
They fell over his panel like rapids, rubbing his codpiece in hurried movements. It only took seconds for it to retract. Megatron gave a frustrated cry of defeat. He tried to boom something, but his words became muddled when the goo hit his erect spike and covered the outside of his valve. He arched his back as the tentacles moved over his spike in all kinds of different movements, rubbing and feeling every inch of it. They even seemed to fight amongst each other. They pushed and fought for a chance to touch him, clicking furiously in little animalistic insults. The vibration only made the experience even more thrilling. His breath came out ragged and his spark felt as if it was trying to escape his chest and go back to the allspark. It was difficult to do anything but thrust and lean into the nearly overbearing sensations.
They rubbed the outside of his valve, making silent estimates of just how many could fit inside. It was one thing that Megatron certainly wasn’t looking forward to. Though he couldn’t really pinpoint exactly how much interfacing he had done as of late, it wasn’t as if he found himself wanting. The inside of his stomach leaped when he recalled the last time he had interfaced, Soundwave had been more than happy to service his lord the night that he returned. Either way, he hadn’t paid much attention to his valve, never really had. It was obvious that his valve was lubed up, his everything was lubed up. The tentacles were of impressive size, and Megatron wasn’t very warm to the idea of having his valve stretched by the awful creatures, even if they could slide in easily.
He thrown his lower half around in an attempt to get them off his valve, but they just rubbed even faster and held tighter to his hips. One of them managed to worm inside, wriggling around and inspecting the inner walls. Megatron became nervous, yet more persistent. He used his claws to attempt to unknot the tentacles around his hands and wrists, but had no luck. He froze with a hiss when the tentacle in his valve started to press delicate sensor nodes in the very back. He couldn’t stop himself from shivering once it started to make tickling motions, a shaky sigh escaping his throat.
It must have seen this as a sign to move, because it most certainly did. After a few slow back-and-forth motions to test how slippery his valve had become, it pounded into him. The sudden movements of his hips seemed to excite the ones on his spike into even more of a frenzy.
Megatron’s body slid and rocked with the force of the tentacle in his valve. His head fell back in a tired sort of ecstasy, unable to fight for much longer. The tentacles were causing him to shake with raw pleasure. A rush of dread and excitement zipped from the tips of his feet to his spark as yet another tentacle rubbed around his already-filled valve. It was planning to wedge itself in.
The tentacle inside momentarily withdrew from his valve, deciding to cooperate with the one rubbing the outer edge. They used their tips to start stretching Megatron’s valve. The tentacles on his cord didn’t seem as excited now that their victim wasn’t thrashing about as much. They slowed down considerably. If they were going to rape him, did they have to tease him too? Didn’t he already have it bad enough? He clenched his teeth and lay limp in the goo that they still covered him with. It was still hot and it’s eerie musk covered the area.
Megatron was just starting to lose all of his patience when the two tentacles decided that it was time. They cautiously dove in together, not wanting to injure their prey too badly. Their victim made a sharp “Gah!” from his chest. He obviously didn’t like being stretched very much.
They calmly started thrusting just to test the waters. Megatron seemed to be taking it well. It was time to continue on with what the first tentacle had started. They shoved themselves inside in a clumsy pattern, clicking and squirming as an answer to the deliciously tight suction.
His body once again began to move. The tentacles on his cord chirped happily, excited for the ride to continue on. Megatron himself couldn’t even tell what he was feeling at the moment. He shuddered when they started thrusting into him, now his reaction had escalated. He cried out again and again, but was it in pain or pleasure? Was he trying to fight, or asking for more? The effects of the goo made it hard to react.
In the middle of the lusty riot, a few tentacles were brave enough to go inside his mouth. Normally one would assume that they would be asking for oral sex, but that wouldn’t have been a very smart idea, would it? Instead, they pried his mouth open. They struggled against his sharp teeth, weakly shaking in pain as they wrestled with him. They continued shaking even after he allowed them to have their way.
Megatron was close to an overload. He could feel the pleasure deep down inside of him starting to wind up like a spring, ready to release itself in a hot explosion. Were the tentacles even able to “Overload” themselves? He was soon to find out. What he supposed was the wall in front of him made an alien sound; it was like an air pocket had bubbled inside of it. The tentacles went insane in response. Choir upon choir of clicks and shrieks rose up into the air; a demonic howl of pleasure thanking their host for capturing a sacrifice for them.
Megatron and the tentacles overloaded. While I’d like to say it was all at the same time, this would be far too courteous to our beloved decepticon emperor. It was a chain reaction starting with one on his chest. He could feel a hot splash to the right of him along with an unnatural spasm from one of the tentacles, many, many more following. The tentacles on his cord preceded his own. If it could even be called their transfluid, whatever they shot squirted onto his cord and their movements felt absolutely heavenly against him. He came with a silent scream, tentacle-fluid thickly dripping down his body and mingling with the goo. He roughly shook up into his captors. The movements in his valve caused the two inside to make their contribution. Their fluids burst inside the tightness and would soon perversely run outside, a few drops making their way to the gelatinous flooring.
The last to overload were a few on his chest and neck. They aimed themselves at his open mouth and shot their fluids into his mouth and face. Megatron’s transfluid, the tentacle fluid, and the goo made for a dirty cocktail that completely covered him. He was too tired to even get angry when the ones holding his mouth open retracted and finished themselves on his closed mouth. The tentacles on his legs slowly unwrapped, the others helping him to slide down completely onto the floor. The floor sounded like it had a heartbeat.
It could have been anything from minutes to hours to weeks that Megatron lay there in recovery. Time was funny in Kaon. The thought eventually came to him to do a short reboot in order to see if everything was alright. After some checking, most all of him was just fine. Even his valve was alright, albeit tingly and sore. He pep-talked himself into silently getting up.
The floor was hard as one would expect from dark tunnels, so was the wall in front of him. It wasn’t alive. It wasn’t squishy. It was created out of average tunnel material. Some tentacles were still there, but barely alive. One of them lifted it’s head up in a slow, bovine fashion. He began the work of pulling the tentacles off of him, showing especially rough attention to those that were still alive. The goo and fluids had disappeared, leaving only a honey-like taste in his mouth as a memento.
Megatron stood up and gave the wall a punch that he had been saving for the non-existent person he had been hunting earlier. “Megatron! I knew it was you, I felt it in my spark! Only you could have been scouring the tunnels and destroying city property. You would even stoop to such low levels of-“ The Optimus Prime didn’t even get to finish his grand speech before Megatron stepped forward and grabbed him. It responded with a surprised, almost dainty sound. It made even better sounds when Megatron gave it the treatment he was saving for the tunnel wall. How lucky that a Prime might run into him right after his experience. Nothing like the spilt energon of an Optimus Prime on your knuckles after a bad day, after all.