Relearning freedom, 13
Do not read, ziru
Title: Relearning Freedom, 13
Fandom: TFA
Pairing: surprise
Rating: Very adult
Words: 1085
Includes: sticky, mentions of non-con, the friendly and unfriendly sides of BDSM, mentions of torture, sexual slavery, orgasm control/denial, various other things, mentioned as necessary
Disclaimer: do not own
Optimus wasn't sure how he felt about that. It implied that the Autobots were expecting the Magnus to injure him often enough and badly enough that he would require medical attention. It was his master's right, of course, to beat him if he wanted to, but some small part of him had hoped that the Magnus would be better than that. And maybe he was, for bots that mattered. Not for spikesluts.
"May I ask what was done to me while I was offline?" he asked, expecting to be told to be silent. He was a toy. He didn't have to be told anything. And he wouldn't understand half of what he was told anyways, with his processor so badly glitched. There was no reason for the medic to tell him anything.
First Aid's visor lit up brightly, "Oh, we fixed a lot of your damaged systems. Your tank was replaced, and we put transformation cogs back in your legs. We couldn't fix all the damage, though, so you'll need to have more work done before you can transform properly, and I wouldn't advise running."
Well, of course not. He wasn't going to try to run from his new master. "And my," he makes a gesture towards his pelvic armor, wondering if his parts have been modded to the Magnus's pleasure, "other damage?"
A hot flush spread across First Aid's facemask. "I . . yes. We repaired the damage there. The Magnus did not let us replace anything, though, because you said you did not want to be altered there without permission."
Then he still had his valve mod in place and his twisted, ugly spike. And covers for them now. It would always feel strange to have his parts covered that way.
Optimus shifted a bit on the berth, feeling his valve lubricate. He wondered if the long time offline had been enough to make him need to be fragged yet. Optimus was a terrible spikeslut. Tripwire had loved to point out just how desperate Optimus would get to be fragged if his valve was left empty for a while. It hurt if he went without spike for too long, because he was a greedy spikeslut. When Tripwire ignored him for too long, he had to beg the guards to take him, to relieve the pain in his valve, tight, clenching agony as his modded valve went unstretched by spike.
He didn't hurt yet. But he could tell that the painful need would come soon. But his new Master would surely have him on his spike soon. Especially since Optimus had kept the mech waiting for several sols during his recovery.
He felt better than he had in ages, so he would have no trouble servicing his new Master. He hoped. The Magnus was such a large bot. His spike would be so huge.
Optimus risked a smile, "Will I be leaving soon?"
The mech's visor flickered with shock. "Oh, no. Of course not. You still need so much work, Optimus. But don't worry. The Magnus has plans to move you to another room. A place for you to recover in. He thinks the normal hospital rooms are too stark." First Aid shakes his helm, "So he intends to have you moved to one of the rooms we keep for our most important patients. The room he wants is quite nice."
A nice hospital room? Why would the Magnus want to keep Optimus in the medbay even longer than necessary? And why in a room that would surely be even more costly?
Unless his master wanted to take him while he was 'recovering.' He had known several bots with medical fetishes. They tended to be cruel bots, though one other slave had claimed that his master always 'comforted' him afterwards. But masters did not care about the comfort of their property.
"When will I be going there?" he asked, and pulled on the energon line, stopping when First Aid tisked at him and pushed his servo away.
"Don't fiddle with that. You need the mineral and fuel injections to get your systems back to normal. Your nanites were almost completely wiped out. It will take a while to get them back." The medic rubbed a salve over the entry point of the injection line. "There. That will stop the itching a bit. As for the room change, well, I imagine sometime this sol. He was quite insistent about it."
The bot rose to his peds, and Optimus's optics were drawn to the mech's panel, wondering what kind of spike was hiding beneath. He wouldn't ask the bot to use him, though. He had no idea how his master felt about sharing him, and until he knew, he would not risk the Magnus's wrath.
"I'm going to find out when we'll be transferring you. I'll be back in just a klik or two," the bot promised, and then left the room, the door sliding shut behind him. Optimus took the chance to offline his optics and think. He had a new master, something he never thought would happen. Now he had no idea what to do. The Magnus was such a powerful, influential bot. He could have any bot in his berth for pleasure, which meant that he would not need to use Optimus in that capacity. No, his new spikeslut would be best for whatever urges the Magnus could not act out on normal bots.
It would be his job to sate the Magnus's wilder lusts.
And his anger.
It was a duty he was well-accustomed to, and one he knew better than to complain about.
"It looks like we'll be moving you as soon as one of the medics makes sure you're capable of being safely moved," First Aid alerted him, entering the room moments later. "Ratchet has been very concerned over you. You're lucky to have such a good medic on your case."
Optimus was sure that he was lucky. He would owe his new master so much for all of this treatment. "I feel very good," he reassured First Aid. He was ready to service the Magnus now. His valve was wet and eager, and his frame recovered enough that a frag would not have any risk of offlining him. He would offer a frag to the medic, but his master might not approve. Perhaps the medic might enjoy having Optimus suck his spike instead, but again, he could not offer until he knew what the Magnus would allow him to do.
Title: Relearning Freedom, 13
Fandom: TFA
Pairing: surprise
Rating: Very adult
Words: 1085
Includes: sticky, mentions of non-con, the friendly and unfriendly sides of BDSM, mentions of torture, sexual slavery, orgasm control/denial, various other things, mentioned as necessary
Disclaimer: do not own
Optimus wasn't sure how he felt about that. It implied that the Autobots were expecting the Magnus to injure him often enough and badly enough that he would require medical attention. It was his master's right, of course, to beat him if he wanted to, but some small part of him had hoped that the Magnus would be better than that. And maybe he was, for bots that mattered. Not for spikesluts.
"May I ask what was done to me while I was offline?" he asked, expecting to be told to be silent. He was a toy. He didn't have to be told anything. And he wouldn't understand half of what he was told anyways, with his processor so badly glitched. There was no reason for the medic to tell him anything.
First Aid's visor lit up brightly, "Oh, we fixed a lot of your damaged systems. Your tank was replaced, and we put transformation cogs back in your legs. We couldn't fix all the damage, though, so you'll need to have more work done before you can transform properly, and I wouldn't advise running."
Well, of course not. He wasn't going to try to run from his new master. "And my," he makes a gesture towards his pelvic armor, wondering if his parts have been modded to the Magnus's pleasure, "other damage?"
A hot flush spread across First Aid's facemask. "I . . yes. We repaired the damage there. The Magnus did not let us replace anything, though, because you said you did not want to be altered there without permission."
Then he still had his valve mod in place and his twisted, ugly spike. And covers for them now. It would always feel strange to have his parts covered that way.
Optimus shifted a bit on the berth, feeling his valve lubricate. He wondered if the long time offline had been enough to make him need to be fragged yet. Optimus was a terrible spikeslut. Tripwire had loved to point out just how desperate Optimus would get to be fragged if his valve was left empty for a while. It hurt if he went without spike for too long, because he was a greedy spikeslut. When Tripwire ignored him for too long, he had to beg the guards to take him, to relieve the pain in his valve, tight, clenching agony as his modded valve went unstretched by spike.
He didn't hurt yet. But he could tell that the painful need would come soon. But his new Master would surely have him on his spike soon. Especially since Optimus had kept the mech waiting for several sols during his recovery.
He felt better than he had in ages, so he would have no trouble servicing his new Master. He hoped. The Magnus was such a large bot. His spike would be so huge.
Optimus risked a smile, "Will I be leaving soon?"
The mech's visor flickered with shock. "Oh, no. Of course not. You still need so much work, Optimus. But don't worry. The Magnus has plans to move you to another room. A place for you to recover in. He thinks the normal hospital rooms are too stark." First Aid shakes his helm, "So he intends to have you moved to one of the rooms we keep for our most important patients. The room he wants is quite nice."
A nice hospital room? Why would the Magnus want to keep Optimus in the medbay even longer than necessary? And why in a room that would surely be even more costly?
Unless his master wanted to take him while he was 'recovering.' He had known several bots with medical fetishes. They tended to be cruel bots, though one other slave had claimed that his master always 'comforted' him afterwards. But masters did not care about the comfort of their property.
"When will I be going there?" he asked, and pulled on the energon line, stopping when First Aid tisked at him and pushed his servo away.
"Don't fiddle with that. You need the mineral and fuel injections to get your systems back to normal. Your nanites were almost completely wiped out. It will take a while to get them back." The medic rubbed a salve over the entry point of the injection line. "There. That will stop the itching a bit. As for the room change, well, I imagine sometime this sol. He was quite insistent about it."
The bot rose to his peds, and Optimus's optics were drawn to the mech's panel, wondering what kind of spike was hiding beneath. He wouldn't ask the bot to use him, though. He had no idea how his master felt about sharing him, and until he knew, he would not risk the Magnus's wrath.
"I'm going to find out when we'll be transferring you. I'll be back in just a klik or two," the bot promised, and then left the room, the door sliding shut behind him. Optimus took the chance to offline his optics and think. He had a new master, something he never thought would happen. Now he had no idea what to do. The Magnus was such a powerful, influential bot. He could have any bot in his berth for pleasure, which meant that he would not need to use Optimus in that capacity. No, his new spikeslut would be best for whatever urges the Magnus could not act out on normal bots.
It would be his job to sate the Magnus's wilder lusts.
And his anger.
It was a duty he was well-accustomed to, and one he knew better than to complain about.
"It looks like we'll be moving you as soon as one of the medics makes sure you're capable of being safely moved," First Aid alerted him, entering the room moments later. "Ratchet has been very concerned over you. You're lucky to have such a good medic on your case."
Optimus was sure that he was lucky. He would owe his new master so much for all of this treatment. "I feel very good," he reassured First Aid. He was ready to service the Magnus now. His valve was wet and eager, and his frame recovered enough that a frag would not have any risk of offlining him. He would offer a frag to the medic, but his master might not approve. Perhaps the medic might enjoy having Optimus suck his spike instead, but again, he could not offer until he knew what the Magnus would allow him to do.