Meme fic #1 - for RaisedbyMoogles
Prompt #3 : Roddy/Optimus - slave/Master
Warnings for: Sticky sex; dub-con; uhhh... etc etc.
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Rodimus snarled, snapping at the hand hovering near his lips, fingers almost close enough to their goal to trace the soft metal. Instead the hand moved and came down upon his cheek, a sharp blow that turned his head from the force. He growled, more softly, and pressed his injury against his shoulder to hide the stinging metal.
“None of that,” Optimus rumbled, sounding almost amused by the petulant glare that gleamed beneath the ridge of the maroon helm. The large fingers clamped down on his chin, drawing his head up and turning it to inspect the damage he had inflicted. Rodimus hissed a warning to mask the sting as those fingers brushed against the scuff mark and tender, sensitized metal of his faceplates. “You see what happens when you’re bad?”
He talks down to me like a child, he fumed, struggling to free his chin so he could bite him properly this time. The grasp on his face tightened, just slightly, warning him as he jerked and twisted to free his head.
“Rodimus…” A growl this time, another warning from the larger mech. “You know the punishment for biting.”
“I don’t fragging care as long as I make a dent!” He yipped as his cheek was slapped again, opposite of the first, and he ducked his head with a small growl to hide the whimper beneath. Primus that stung…!
“Are you going to behave now?”
“Y-you can’t make me do anything…”
“You know very well that isn’t true…” The larger mech leaned in close to his audio, his lips brushing against the metal teasingly. “I can make you do anything I want, slave…”
Rodimus whimpered aloud, shuttering his optics as he shivered, the warm caress of Optimus’ lips sucking on his neck was unwanted, the pleasant tickle of his glossa on his major fuel line unwelcome; he tilted his head back as the sharp denta grazed his throat and nipped underneath his chin. That sensitive little wire just beneath his audio receptor found the warm glossa jiggling and teasing it until the maroon mech gave an audible whimper. Optimus stepped back, leaving him trembling on shaking legs, and gave a small growl of his engine. “Kneel.”
Rodimus offered a half-sparked snarl in response and dropped to his knees, wobbling slightly for balance and tugging at the cuffs holding his wrists behind him. Optimus rumbled in approval, stroking his helm and pressing it gently to his hip. “Good boy, Rodimus.”
“Frag you…”
“If you so need something to occupy your mouth, I will gladly remedy that for you…” The blue panel slid away, and Rodimus turned his face away from the pressurizing spike so close to his cheek with a small whine. “Lick it, Rodimus…”
“Primus, no!” He yelped as he was bumped off the blue hip, wriggling and wobbling for balance only to go tumbling backwards. He lay a bit dazed by the fall, cringing as the large peds came up against his side and a foot hooked under him, flipping him easily onto his front. He gave a ‘whuff’ when he landed, intakes gasping for the air they had lost, wheezing slightly from the struggle as that large ped rested heavily on his back, bearing down gradually against his spoiler. “This is where you belong,” Optimus growled above him, and he dared not look up. “Here at my feet like the lowly little drone that you are…”
“I’m not…!” he gasped, interrupted with a small whine of discomfort as the pressure on his back increased.
“You’ll learn your place, little slave, fear not…” The pressure on his back lifted, the toe of the heavy ped slipping beneath his chin and tilting his face slightly upward. “We’ll start with something simpler for you, then - lick my ped.”
Rodimus groaned, rubbing his cheek against the blue plating, glossa flitting out reluctantly to taste him. Optimus stayed clean, smelling of solvent and fresh wax, so it wasn’t an unpleasant taste… but he’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Optimus rumbled louder, foot shifting and pressing against Roddy’s face. “Harder, slave. Polish it.” Roddy groaned again, opening his mouth all the way to drag his glossa firmly along the top of his foot, gradually working his way up the thick blue leg as he was pulled up onto his knees. A large blue hand wrapped around the back of his helm, guiding his mouth up the shapely silver thigh which quaked unsteadily as his mouth passed along the inside seam. Optimus had nearly managed to guide the presently-compliant mouth to his quivering spike, his hand loosening just slightly against the back of the red helm. Rodimus’s optics narrowed and he ducked slightly, glossa passing over the silver rim of his exposed valve. Optimus twitched, catching hold of his helm again and pulling him back, visibly quivering as he glowered down at the smaller mech. “That’s cheating…”
Rodimus smirked at him, optics narrowed in challenge. “All’s fair in love and war, Master…”
“That’s your last warning about your smart mouth…”
Rodimus smirked again but complied. He was at too much of a disadvantage when the ring gag was in his mouth, muffling only his words and none of his whimpers. Optimus caught him about the back of his neck, hauling him abruptly to his feet with the yellow spoiler pressed to the broad red chest, and Rodimus arched in surprise, trying to avoid the fingers wiggling between his thighs. “Nngh…! Now who’s cheating…!”
“I am the Master and you are the slave,” Optimus growled against his audio, sliding a finger into the smaller mech’s valve, making him whine and wiggle, “and you are going to learn that you have no say in my will. You will worship whatever I deem you momentarily worthy enough to be presented with, you will save your big mouth for sucking my spike, and you will overload,” he punctuated his point with a second finger sliding in, twisting the pair back and forth, making Rodimus arch and buck against him, “when and only when I wish it.”
“You can’t - nngh! - make me…!”
“I can…” Another twist of his fingers, Rodimus panting hard as he moaned, writhing for escape.
“C-c-can’t!”
“Can…!” Optimus growled in approval of the squawk of surprise from the smaller mech as his hand grasped his erect spike, pumping it with a sort of frantic desperation that made Roddy’s legs tremble and hips buck out of control. He grit his dental plates, head falling back against the broad shoulder as he hissed, trying to bite back his moans of pleasure. Damn him! He wouldn’t last at this pace…! He could feel that dangerous edge of overload drawing nearer, his thighs splaying open against his will as he bucked and twisted, desperately trying to escape the dual stimulation.
They both gave a start as the timer chimed, happily trilling its alarm. Rodimus grinned triumphantly and Optimus sagged, groaning, “Ah, hexagonal nuts.” He reluctantly released his hold on the smaller mech’s spike and slid his fingers free of the quivering valve. If only he’d had a few kliks more…! Rodimus took hardly a moment to even the cycling of his heaving intakes, turning around to grin up at Optimus.
“Ha! I win!” Roddy crowed, wiggling his wrists easily out of the cuffs and taking a long moment to stretch before standing, hands on his hips as he grinned at the larger bot. “I win,” he sing-songed again, moving closer as Optimus backed away, optics gleaming with humor and hands drawn up to defend himself. “You know what that means…”
“Don’t you dare…”
“You agreed to the penalty…”
“I didn’t think you’d win! Not the antennae…!”
“Get down here, slave!”
Optimus gave a squeal as he let himself be tackled to the floor and Roddy laughed. It never ceased to entertain him how Optimus always squealed like a little human girl during their games.
“Five-bream penalty and then it’s your turn,” he growled playfully before running his glossa along the delicate antennae. Optimus squealed again, laughing as he struggled half-sparked against the smaller mech’s hold on him, gave a few token, giggling protests as he was manhandled and cuffed, legs kicking blindly, scraping at the floor of their quarters. By the end of his penalty, he was flush-faced and panting, his tortured antennae dripping with cooling oral fluid and sitting on his knees staring up at Rodimus’ smug grin beyond the hard, twitching spike resting just against his cheek. Roddy gave a growl, “Suck it, Orion. Finish what you started.”
Optimus shivered, rubbing his cheek lovingly along the hardened spike, and trailed his lips from base to tip. “Yes, Master…”
Warnings for: Sticky sex; dub-con; uhhh... etc etc.
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Rodimus snarled, snapping at the hand hovering near his lips, fingers almost close enough to their goal to trace the soft metal. Instead the hand moved and came down upon his cheek, a sharp blow that turned his head from the force. He growled, more softly, and pressed his injury against his shoulder to hide the stinging metal.
“None of that,” Optimus rumbled, sounding almost amused by the petulant glare that gleamed beneath the ridge of the maroon helm. The large fingers clamped down on his chin, drawing his head up and turning it to inspect the damage he had inflicted. Rodimus hissed a warning to mask the sting as those fingers brushed against the scuff mark and tender, sensitized metal of his faceplates. “You see what happens when you’re bad?”
He talks down to me like a child, he fumed, struggling to free his chin so he could bite him properly this time. The grasp on his face tightened, just slightly, warning him as he jerked and twisted to free his head.
“Rodimus…” A growl this time, another warning from the larger mech. “You know the punishment for biting.”
“I don’t fragging care as long as I make a dent!” He yipped as his cheek was slapped again, opposite of the first, and he ducked his head with a small growl to hide the whimper beneath. Primus that stung…!
“Are you going to behave now?”
“Y-you can’t make me do anything…”
“You know very well that isn’t true…” The larger mech leaned in close to his audio, his lips brushing against the metal teasingly. “I can make you do anything I want, slave…”
Rodimus whimpered aloud, shuttering his optics as he shivered, the warm caress of Optimus’ lips sucking on his neck was unwanted, the pleasant tickle of his glossa on his major fuel line unwelcome; he tilted his head back as the sharp denta grazed his throat and nipped underneath his chin. That sensitive little wire just beneath his audio receptor found the warm glossa jiggling and teasing it until the maroon mech gave an audible whimper. Optimus stepped back, leaving him trembling on shaking legs, and gave a small growl of his engine. “Kneel.”
Rodimus offered a half-sparked snarl in response and dropped to his knees, wobbling slightly for balance and tugging at the cuffs holding his wrists behind him. Optimus rumbled in approval, stroking his helm and pressing it gently to his hip. “Good boy, Rodimus.”
“Frag you…”
“If you so need something to occupy your mouth, I will gladly remedy that for you…” The blue panel slid away, and Rodimus turned his face away from the pressurizing spike so close to his cheek with a small whine. “Lick it, Rodimus…”
“Primus, no!” He yelped as he was bumped off the blue hip, wriggling and wobbling for balance only to go tumbling backwards. He lay a bit dazed by the fall, cringing as the large peds came up against his side and a foot hooked under him, flipping him easily onto his front. He gave a ‘whuff’ when he landed, intakes gasping for the air they had lost, wheezing slightly from the struggle as that large ped rested heavily on his back, bearing down gradually against his spoiler. “This is where you belong,” Optimus growled above him, and he dared not look up. “Here at my feet like the lowly little drone that you are…”
“I’m not…!” he gasped, interrupted with a small whine of discomfort as the pressure on his back increased.
“You’ll learn your place, little slave, fear not…” The pressure on his back lifted, the toe of the heavy ped slipping beneath his chin and tilting his face slightly upward. “We’ll start with something simpler for you, then - lick my ped.”
Rodimus groaned, rubbing his cheek against the blue plating, glossa flitting out reluctantly to taste him. Optimus stayed clean, smelling of solvent and fresh wax, so it wasn’t an unpleasant taste… but he’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Optimus rumbled louder, foot shifting and pressing against Roddy’s face. “Harder, slave. Polish it.” Roddy groaned again, opening his mouth all the way to drag his glossa firmly along the top of his foot, gradually working his way up the thick blue leg as he was pulled up onto his knees. A large blue hand wrapped around the back of his helm, guiding his mouth up the shapely silver thigh which quaked unsteadily as his mouth passed along the inside seam. Optimus had nearly managed to guide the presently-compliant mouth to his quivering spike, his hand loosening just slightly against the back of the red helm. Rodimus’s optics narrowed and he ducked slightly, glossa passing over the silver rim of his exposed valve. Optimus twitched, catching hold of his helm again and pulling him back, visibly quivering as he glowered down at the smaller mech. “That’s cheating…”
Rodimus smirked at him, optics narrowed in challenge. “All’s fair in love and war, Master…”
“That’s your last warning about your smart mouth…”
Rodimus smirked again but complied. He was at too much of a disadvantage when the ring gag was in his mouth, muffling only his words and none of his whimpers. Optimus caught him about the back of his neck, hauling him abruptly to his feet with the yellow spoiler pressed to the broad red chest, and Rodimus arched in surprise, trying to avoid the fingers wiggling between his thighs. “Nngh…! Now who’s cheating…!”
“I am the Master and you are the slave,” Optimus growled against his audio, sliding a finger into the smaller mech’s valve, making him whine and wiggle, “and you are going to learn that you have no say in my will. You will worship whatever I deem you momentarily worthy enough to be presented with, you will save your big mouth for sucking my spike, and you will overload,” he punctuated his point with a second finger sliding in, twisting the pair back and forth, making Rodimus arch and buck against him, “when and only when I wish it.”
“You can’t - nngh! - make me…!”
“I can…” Another twist of his fingers, Rodimus panting hard as he moaned, writhing for escape.
“C-c-can’t!”
“Can…!” Optimus growled in approval of the squawk of surprise from the smaller mech as his hand grasped his erect spike, pumping it with a sort of frantic desperation that made Roddy’s legs tremble and hips buck out of control. He grit his dental plates, head falling back against the broad shoulder as he hissed, trying to bite back his moans of pleasure. Damn him! He wouldn’t last at this pace…! He could feel that dangerous edge of overload drawing nearer, his thighs splaying open against his will as he bucked and twisted, desperately trying to escape the dual stimulation.
They both gave a start as the timer chimed, happily trilling its alarm. Rodimus grinned triumphantly and Optimus sagged, groaning, “Ah, hexagonal nuts.” He reluctantly released his hold on the smaller mech’s spike and slid his fingers free of the quivering valve. If only he’d had a few kliks more…! Rodimus took hardly a moment to even the cycling of his heaving intakes, turning around to grin up at Optimus.
“Ha! I win!” Roddy crowed, wiggling his wrists easily out of the cuffs and taking a long moment to stretch before standing, hands on his hips as he grinned at the larger bot. “I win,” he sing-songed again, moving closer as Optimus backed away, optics gleaming with humor and hands drawn up to defend himself. “You know what that means…”
“Don’t you dare…”
“You agreed to the penalty…”
“I didn’t think you’d win! Not the antennae…!”
“Get down here, slave!”
Optimus gave a squeal as he let himself be tackled to the floor and Roddy laughed. It never ceased to entertain him how Optimus always squealed like a little human girl during their games.
“Five-bream penalty and then it’s your turn,” he growled playfully before running his glossa along the delicate antennae. Optimus squealed again, laughing as he struggled half-sparked against the smaller mech’s hold on him, gave a few token, giggling protests as he was manhandled and cuffed, legs kicking blindly, scraping at the floor of their quarters. By the end of his penalty, he was flush-faced and panting, his tortured antennae dripping with cooling oral fluid and sitting on his knees staring up at Rodimus’ smug grin beyond the hard, twitching spike resting just against his cheek. Roddy gave a growl, “Suck it, Orion. Finish what you started.”
Optimus shivered, rubbing his cheek lovingly along the hardened spike, and trailed his lips from base to tip. “Yes, Master…”