Andafork PT2
And a fork part two: Otherwise known as: Would anyone like a bunny? They appear to be multiplying?
Title: And a fork part two.
Challenge: Screw 'Em, I'm Glad I'm Single
Continuity: Bayverse
Rating: Rated X
Pairings: Implied Jazz/Maggie, outright Jazz/Bee, Implied Jazz/Maggie/Bee.
Summary: Got an itch?
Warnings: Masturbation by a female human, plug and play/spark chamber stroking mech on mech. I apologise for the low level of human/mech interaction, part three is planned to contain a whole lot more.
Location: Med bay.
Current status: Angry Ratchet on the rampage, not sure what he's suggesting is physically possible but if anyone can do that he can.
Survival tactics: Nod at everything, yes doc and don't whatever you do mention the chicken.
"What on earth were you thinking?!" That pretty much sums up the ten minute rant streak Ratchet had been on, while scanning Bee for any more missing items, scanning Maggie for injury and yelling at Jazz who as second in command should know better.
"Not only did you endanger Maggie physically but there's no knowing how our fields would affect a human! What possessed you airheads to start experimenting?" An Angry Ratchet was an impressive sight at the best of times, despite the bristling and the sheer volume of his displeasure however his ministrations were firm but gentle.
"Now, you, young lady. There appears to be no damage, however if you notice anything, you are to tell me immediately, do you understand?" Behind Ratchet Maggie could set Jazz dim one optic in their version of a wink.
"Yes Ratchet", as he turned away, she considered why she hadn't told him about the tingle, not that it mattered, her hand felt just fine now apart from being grimy she was fine.
"Can I go now", Ratchet grunted but he did lift her down and both bots watched her walk out absently scratching at her hand before tuning back into the Ratchet lecture of mass irresponsibility.
Ten minutes later:
The shower was a welcome relief, despite the grime and the Ratchet lecture, Maggie didn't regret agreeing to help extract the items one bit. It wasn't often she got to spend that much time with individual bots, especially Jazz since he was often off on missions.
There was much debate within some of the female staff as to which autobot was more attractive in a 'it'll never happen but it's fun to dream' way, Optimus Prime alone had quite the following, apparently it was his voice or something. To Maggie though, the idea of Prime in that way was rather perculiar, like fantasising about Buddha or Jesus.
Now Jazz on the other hand? Her mouth curved into a small smile, just enough to dimple her cheeks. He was fascinating, he flirted with everyone of course and probably didn't mean any of it, not that it wasn't nice to dream.
She leaned back against the wall, lightly soaping up her body and rinsing away the grime. Almost of their own volition, her fingers danced lower and parting the lips gently, she started to rub firmly. Each stroke added to the fire building inside her, a steady itching sensation built, but she was close and rising fast. She desperately ground her fingers against herself, aching, yearning for the finish. Her legs trembled and shook with the effort of holding herself up as she sped up her fingers. So close, she panted, her body slick with sweat and the still running shower water, sharp gasps now and frantic movement, she was so close she could taste it.
The pleasure was anchored between her legs but it flowed throughout her, the sharp itching sensation increased, sharpening into almost pain before it burst into rhythmic contractions of her uterus that filled her eyes with stars for a moment and her body with the fiercest pleasure which only seemed intensified by the itch. She cried out through gritted teeth, a wordless grunt of pleasure as another bolt of pleasure shot through her before sagging on weak legs against the wall. Despite her tiredness, she found herself still hungry for more, her body itching to feel pleasure again and her hand sliding and fondling herself urgently.
Elsewhere: About twenty minutes later:
Jazz and Bumblebee finally free from Ratchet's rant of doom were sitting on the beach together watching the waves roll in. "Bee?"
"mmm?". Bee looked up, unsurprised to see Jazz starting to smile in a very familiar I'm about to jump you way, the silver saboteur had never been shy to go after what he wanted.
Bee quickly found himself with a lap full of Jazz, the only things that didn't seem to be in Bee's lap were Jazz's Servos which seemed to have multiplied as they were everywhere, stroking the yellow plating, playing, tweaking a strut, running a gentle current across conductive hot spots.
Jazz pulled his lover firmly against his silver chest and proceeded to kiss, lick and nibble every part he could reach. "Jazz" The yellow bot managed to gasp out in a brief respite before Jazz renewed the onslaught, servos expertly mapping out the sweet spots on his long time yellow lover.
Before long Bee was pretty much melting with pleasure beneath his lover as Jazz stroked across his spark chamber eliciting small cries, it all felt slagging good but something was missing. Even when Bumblebee could take no more and arched up against Jazz with his spark field flaring widely in arousal and then finally overload, there was still a niggling gap as though something that should have been there wasn't even when Jazz threw back his head and cried out at the sensations washing over the hardline that he had not even noticed Bee connect so focused was he on his lover.
But in the lazy moments afterwards over the connection came the fleeting impression of the ghostly touch of a human hand.
Back to Maggie:
She stumbled out of the shower slowly drying herself, tired but still strangely unsatisfied, five orgasms in a row should be enough for anyone but all it had done was to make Maggie more needy if that was even possible. She collapsed into bed, feeling foul tempered and exhausted, her skin felt prickly and hot. It did not seem possible she could sleep and yet, she did.
Title: And a fork part two.
Challenge: Screw 'Em, I'm Glad I'm Single
Continuity: Bayverse
Rating: Rated X
Pairings: Implied Jazz/Maggie, outright Jazz/Bee, Implied Jazz/Maggie/Bee.
Summary: Got an itch?
Warnings: Masturbation by a female human, plug and play/spark chamber stroking mech on mech. I apologise for the low level of human/mech interaction, part three is planned to contain a whole lot more.
Location: Med bay.
Current status: Angry Ratchet on the rampage, not sure what he's suggesting is physically possible but if anyone can do that he can.
Survival tactics: Nod at everything, yes doc and don't whatever you do mention the chicken.
"What on earth were you thinking?!" That pretty much sums up the ten minute rant streak Ratchet had been on, while scanning Bee for any more missing items, scanning Maggie for injury and yelling at Jazz who as second in command should know better.
"Not only did you endanger Maggie physically but there's no knowing how our fields would affect a human! What possessed you airheads to start experimenting?" An Angry Ratchet was an impressive sight at the best of times, despite the bristling and the sheer volume of his displeasure however his ministrations were firm but gentle.
"Now, you, young lady. There appears to be no damage, however if you notice anything, you are to tell me immediately, do you understand?" Behind Ratchet Maggie could set Jazz dim one optic in their version of a wink.
"Yes Ratchet", as he turned away, she considered why she hadn't told him about the tingle, not that it mattered, her hand felt just fine now apart from being grimy she was fine.
"Can I go now", Ratchet grunted but he did lift her down and both bots watched her walk out absently scratching at her hand before tuning back into the Ratchet lecture of mass irresponsibility.
Ten minutes later:
The shower was a welcome relief, despite the grime and the Ratchet lecture, Maggie didn't regret agreeing to help extract the items one bit. It wasn't often she got to spend that much time with individual bots, especially Jazz since he was often off on missions.
There was much debate within some of the female staff as to which autobot was more attractive in a 'it'll never happen but it's fun to dream' way, Optimus Prime alone had quite the following, apparently it was his voice or something. To Maggie though, the idea of Prime in that way was rather perculiar, like fantasising about Buddha or Jesus.
Now Jazz on the other hand? Her mouth curved into a small smile, just enough to dimple her cheeks. He was fascinating, he flirted with everyone of course and probably didn't mean any of it, not that it wasn't nice to dream.
She leaned back against the wall, lightly soaping up her body and rinsing away the grime. Almost of their own volition, her fingers danced lower and parting the lips gently, she started to rub firmly. Each stroke added to the fire building inside her, a steady itching sensation built, but she was close and rising fast. She desperately ground her fingers against herself, aching, yearning for the finish. Her legs trembled and shook with the effort of holding herself up as she sped up her fingers. So close, she panted, her body slick with sweat and the still running shower water, sharp gasps now and frantic movement, she was so close she could taste it.
The pleasure was anchored between her legs but it flowed throughout her, the sharp itching sensation increased, sharpening into almost pain before it burst into rhythmic contractions of her uterus that filled her eyes with stars for a moment and her body with the fiercest pleasure which only seemed intensified by the itch. She cried out through gritted teeth, a wordless grunt of pleasure as another bolt of pleasure shot through her before sagging on weak legs against the wall. Despite her tiredness, she found herself still hungry for more, her body itching to feel pleasure again and her hand sliding and fondling herself urgently.
Elsewhere: About twenty minutes later:
Jazz and Bumblebee finally free from Ratchet's rant of doom were sitting on the beach together watching the waves roll in. "Bee?"
"mmm?". Bee looked up, unsurprised to see Jazz starting to smile in a very familiar I'm about to jump you way, the silver saboteur had never been shy to go after what he wanted.
Bee quickly found himself with a lap full of Jazz, the only things that didn't seem to be in Bee's lap were Jazz's Servos which seemed to have multiplied as they were everywhere, stroking the yellow plating, playing, tweaking a strut, running a gentle current across conductive hot spots.
Jazz pulled his lover firmly against his silver chest and proceeded to kiss, lick and nibble every part he could reach. "Jazz" The yellow bot managed to gasp out in a brief respite before Jazz renewed the onslaught, servos expertly mapping out the sweet spots on his long time yellow lover.
Before long Bee was pretty much melting with pleasure beneath his lover as Jazz stroked across his spark chamber eliciting small cries, it all felt slagging good but something was missing. Even when Bumblebee could take no more and arched up against Jazz with his spark field flaring widely in arousal and then finally overload, there was still a niggling gap as though something that should have been there wasn't even when Jazz threw back his head and cried out at the sensations washing over the hardline that he had not even noticed Bee connect so focused was he on his lover.
But in the lazy moments afterwards over the connection came the fleeting impression of the ghostly touch of a human hand.
Back to Maggie:
She stumbled out of the shower slowly drying herself, tired but still strangely unsatisfied, five orgasms in a row should be enough for anyone but all it had done was to make Maggie more needy if that was even possible. She collapsed into bed, feeling foul tempered and exhausted, her skin felt prickly and hot. It did not seem possible she could sleep and yet, she did.