Prompt #1
Title: Giving Thanks
Continuity: G1 Cartoon
Characters/Pairings:: Megatron/Shockwave
Rating: T
Content Notes: Sexually-charged energon drinking and report-giving, intoxication, overindulgence, eating/drinking kink
Prompt: "Task: Communication link sex, AKA TF phone sex. Write a scene where two (or more) characters interact in an erotic way via any communications link, without being able to touch each other."
First, Shockwave made his inspection. Every cube needed to be tested, both by non-invasive spectrum analysis and by running a small sample, drawn from a separately-chosen random portion of each energon cube, through thorough chemical testing.
It wasn't, of course, that Shockwave didn't trust his Leader to send him energon of as high a quality as he could find and spare; but there were so many accidents that could occur in transit, so many unscrupulous mechs that might be skimming or diluting or contaminating the shipment.
And, also, it was good to have as thorough as possible an understanding of the unique components of earth energon. This batch had a rather unique arrangement of hydrocarbon traces...but Shockwave could perform a full analysis later. He set one of his computers working on the preliminary fuel analysis data, arranged for portions of the shipment to be sent to other parts of Cybertron, gave the seeker Megatron had sent across the space bridge something simple to do until the bridge reopened, and then, he went to make his report.
In a ritual older than their current separation, he took one of the cubes with him, selected at random from the supply Megatron had sent.
*****
Shockwave stood before the communicator, at full attention, the cube resting, for now, on a table by his hand-side elbow, just inside the communicator's field of vision. "Activate," he said, and then, when an image started to appear on the other end, "Megatron, Leader of the Decepticons."
"Shockwave," Megatron said, and, as always, the sound of his voice sent a tremor of excitement through Shockwave's circuits that only intensified as Megatron acknowledged him with the proper title and greeting: "Guardian of Cybertron. Report."
Shockwave's hand pressed against the cube as he started speaking. "Seventy-eight cubes arrived, my Leader, all of them full and without significant contaminants."
"As I sent." Megatron waved a hand at Shockwave--or at his communicator, rather. "And the one at your side?"
"One that you sent, Megatron." He pulled it and its table a little further into Megatron's view. It glowed bright, reflecting pink-purple against Shockwave's own plating, lighting his observation room, and charging him slightly just with its radiant energy.
"And the other cubes?" Megatron smiled in the way that meant that he was--probably--in a mood to see the ritual all the way through. "What was your allocation?"
Shockwave ran through the list of cubes, fractional cubes, locations, projects, mechs; detailing everything that he thought his Leader might need to know. Megatron let him speak, his cannon moving slowly into the view of the camera, almost as if to threaten him, as he started slowly brushing his hand across it in a display of power and sensuality that made Shockwave's own cannon heat up in sympathy.
But Shockwave didn't touch it, and he certainly did not raise it in his Leader's direction. That was against the rules.
Shockwave was approximately two-thirds of the way through the report he had prepared (although, of course, he could continue for as long as Megatron wished; he still had very nearly a four-million-year backlog) when Megatron interrupted him. A brief moment's silence allowed Shockwave to catch the small change in undertone of the electronic hum of the communicators that indicated a rise in Megatron's own physical excitement. "And the cube you have there, Shockwave? What is that one for?"
Megatron had played his part so far, and all of the visual and auditory indicators seemed positive. But this was the point where, if Megatron were to reject him, he was most likely do so.
Shockwave did not hesitate, even though Megatron would be able to hear--had he been listening--a sharp increase in the urgency of his physical processes. "If you choose to grant it to me, my leader," he paused, giving Megatron the requisite half-astrosecond to interrupt. "From that cube, I will take my own ration." If Shockwave had misjudged the situation, he would know it, shortly.
He had not misjudged. "Yes, my loyal Guardian," Megatron said, his voice lower than usual as his hand squeezed the base of his cannon. "You may have...an eighth-cube."
That was good. Very good. Not small enough to indicate disapproval, nor large enough to indicate that Megatron wished to be rid of him quickly. "Thank you, my Leader," Shockwave said. He picked up a small, ancient fuel injector--more polished than used, over the last four million years, and, hardly moving his optic from his Lord, he pierced the upper seal of the cube with one end and slid the other carefully into an intake valve on the side of his chest.
He had positioned all of this so that Megatron could get a good view, of course, and, filtering the sound, he could hear Megatron's intake of breath as the injector (which Megatron himself had given Shockwave, early in the war; one of very few things that Shockwave still had from his Leader's own hands) slid into his guardian.
There was one more piece of the ritual before he could begin to absorb the fuel, one thing missing. "Megatron--I would not wish to consume fuel when you have nothing." Megatron very seldom denied him this, not after coming so far.
And, sure enough, Megatron said, "Then allow me to fix that problem for you," and reached outside of Shockwave's field of view, his cannon hand returning with an energon cube which he brought to his lips, draining--Shockwave judged--an eighth-cube at a single swallow.
The glow of the cube--the gleam of energon on Megatron's lips--the movement of his intake, the sound of his copious and almost reckless consumption--Shockwave could almost feel the exhilaration of that much energon at once, suffusing his whole body with energy, enough to overload, if not overcharge, enough to conquer the universe...!
"My Lord..." Shockwave sighed, allowing himself the title in this moment of intensity.
"Proceed," Megatron said, licking a stray drop of energon from his lips--by itself, it would have been enough to power Cybertron for a month in one of the more desperate vorns.
Shockwave opened the valve, slowly, allowing the fuel to slowly diffuse through his systems, filling his fuel lines with heat and potential energy, then start to burn in his engines, rush through his wires, fill him with the near-drunken ecstasy of being fueled.
Through it all, his optic rested on Megatron's image, filling himself with the knowledge and the sensory experience of the Leader who sent him this energon. "Thank you," he said, as the flow of energon passed the halfway point of his currently-alloted portion.
Megatron gulped some more energon, sending tremors through Shockwave's partially-energized systems, stronger now that he was better-fueled himself. So much energy! Shockwave's engine ran faster, hotter, less efficiently, unconsciously reacting to the sight of such plenty. "Lord Megatron--!"
"You may have another eighth, Shockwave, my Guardian," Megatron said fondly, lifting his two-third-full cube to the top of Shockwave's video display. "To Cybertron!"
"To Cybertron!" Shockwave agreed, lifting his own cube up, and in so elevating it, increasing the velocity of the fuel flow. "To the Ruler of the Galaxy!" he said, with an exuberance that he seldom felt, even for his Leader.
"To me!" Megatron agreed, and took another large gulp of energy. "Take more, Shockwave, he said, lowering the cube and moving his free hand down out of sight; from the angle of movement and the very slight sounds, Shockwave could vividly picture his leader rubbing his own trigger.
"To Lord Megatron...!" Shockwave raised the cube even further than before, dizzying himself with the shock of energy as his seldom-used cooling fans whirred into action, audibly demonstrating the sheer heat he felt from the gift Megatron had given him.
"Yes--! Someday, Shockwave, I will rule the universe, and send all its wealth back to Cybertron! And you will build our planet into a capital the galaxy has never known!" Megatron's systems hummed higher and higher, faster and faster, as he dreamed and watched (Shockwave was energized enough to suppose) the very cornerstone of those dreams, Shockwave, his guardian...and moved his hidden hand faster on the trigger Shockwave had seen so very seldom since the Nemesis had left.
"With all my power, Megatron," Shockwave said, fervently, and then became dizzy once more as the flow of fuel automatically cut off at the limit Megatron--and his own systems--had given him.
He lowered the cube, awaiting Megatron's decision.
"Drink it. All of it," Megatron declared. "There's more where that came from!"
"My Lord!" The sudden flood of energy as Shockwave complied with the request overwhelmed his systems altogether; after four million years of starvation, he was still ill-prepared for this. He hit overload, repeatedly and continuously, for several astroseconds, and then he had only a moment to glimpse Megatron's still-hungry optics and hear his roar of pleasure and satiation as he tripped over into unconsciousness.
It was fortunate that he always recorded these sessions.
Continuity: G1 Cartoon
Characters/Pairings:: Megatron/Shockwave
Rating: T
Content Notes: Sexually-charged energon drinking and report-giving, intoxication, overindulgence, eating/drinking kink
Prompt: "Task: Communication link sex, AKA TF phone sex. Write a scene where two (or more) characters interact in an erotic way via any communications link, without being able to touch each other."
First, Shockwave made his inspection. Every cube needed to be tested, both by non-invasive spectrum analysis and by running a small sample, drawn from a separately-chosen random portion of each energon cube, through thorough chemical testing.
It wasn't, of course, that Shockwave didn't trust his Leader to send him energon of as high a quality as he could find and spare; but there were so many accidents that could occur in transit, so many unscrupulous mechs that might be skimming or diluting or contaminating the shipment.
And, also, it was good to have as thorough as possible an understanding of the unique components of earth energon. This batch had a rather unique arrangement of hydrocarbon traces...but Shockwave could perform a full analysis later. He set one of his computers working on the preliminary fuel analysis data, arranged for portions of the shipment to be sent to other parts of Cybertron, gave the seeker Megatron had sent across the space bridge something simple to do until the bridge reopened, and then, he went to make his report.
In a ritual older than their current separation, he took one of the cubes with him, selected at random from the supply Megatron had sent.
*****
Shockwave stood before the communicator, at full attention, the cube resting, for now, on a table by his hand-side elbow, just inside the communicator's field of vision. "Activate," he said, and then, when an image started to appear on the other end, "Megatron, Leader of the Decepticons."
"Shockwave," Megatron said, and, as always, the sound of his voice sent a tremor of excitement through Shockwave's circuits that only intensified as Megatron acknowledged him with the proper title and greeting: "Guardian of Cybertron. Report."
Shockwave's hand pressed against the cube as he started speaking. "Seventy-eight cubes arrived, my Leader, all of them full and without significant contaminants."
"As I sent." Megatron waved a hand at Shockwave--or at his communicator, rather. "And the one at your side?"
"One that you sent, Megatron." He pulled it and its table a little further into Megatron's view. It glowed bright, reflecting pink-purple against Shockwave's own plating, lighting his observation room, and charging him slightly just with its radiant energy.
"And the other cubes?" Megatron smiled in the way that meant that he was--probably--in a mood to see the ritual all the way through. "What was your allocation?"
Shockwave ran through the list of cubes, fractional cubes, locations, projects, mechs; detailing everything that he thought his Leader might need to know. Megatron let him speak, his cannon moving slowly into the view of the camera, almost as if to threaten him, as he started slowly brushing his hand across it in a display of power and sensuality that made Shockwave's own cannon heat up in sympathy.
But Shockwave didn't touch it, and he certainly did not raise it in his Leader's direction. That was against the rules.
Shockwave was approximately two-thirds of the way through the report he had prepared (although, of course, he could continue for as long as Megatron wished; he still had very nearly a four-million-year backlog) when Megatron interrupted him. A brief moment's silence allowed Shockwave to catch the small change in undertone of the electronic hum of the communicators that indicated a rise in Megatron's own physical excitement. "And the cube you have there, Shockwave? What is that one for?"
Megatron had played his part so far, and all of the visual and auditory indicators seemed positive. But this was the point where, if Megatron were to reject him, he was most likely do so.
Shockwave did not hesitate, even though Megatron would be able to hear--had he been listening--a sharp increase in the urgency of his physical processes. "If you choose to grant it to me, my leader," he paused, giving Megatron the requisite half-astrosecond to interrupt. "From that cube, I will take my own ration." If Shockwave had misjudged the situation, he would know it, shortly.
He had not misjudged. "Yes, my loyal Guardian," Megatron said, his voice lower than usual as his hand squeezed the base of his cannon. "You may have...an eighth-cube."
That was good. Very good. Not small enough to indicate disapproval, nor large enough to indicate that Megatron wished to be rid of him quickly. "Thank you, my Leader," Shockwave said. He picked up a small, ancient fuel injector--more polished than used, over the last four million years, and, hardly moving his optic from his Lord, he pierced the upper seal of the cube with one end and slid the other carefully into an intake valve on the side of his chest.
He had positioned all of this so that Megatron could get a good view, of course, and, filtering the sound, he could hear Megatron's intake of breath as the injector (which Megatron himself had given Shockwave, early in the war; one of very few things that Shockwave still had from his Leader's own hands) slid into his guardian.
There was one more piece of the ritual before he could begin to absorb the fuel, one thing missing. "Megatron--I would not wish to consume fuel when you have nothing." Megatron very seldom denied him this, not after coming so far.
And, sure enough, Megatron said, "Then allow me to fix that problem for you," and reached outside of Shockwave's field of view, his cannon hand returning with an energon cube which he brought to his lips, draining--Shockwave judged--an eighth-cube at a single swallow.
The glow of the cube--the gleam of energon on Megatron's lips--the movement of his intake, the sound of his copious and almost reckless consumption--Shockwave could almost feel the exhilaration of that much energon at once, suffusing his whole body with energy, enough to overload, if not overcharge, enough to conquer the universe...!
"My Lord..." Shockwave sighed, allowing himself the title in this moment of intensity.
"Proceed," Megatron said, licking a stray drop of energon from his lips--by itself, it would have been enough to power Cybertron for a month in one of the more desperate vorns.
Shockwave opened the valve, slowly, allowing the fuel to slowly diffuse through his systems, filling his fuel lines with heat and potential energy, then start to burn in his engines, rush through his wires, fill him with the near-drunken ecstasy of being fueled.
Through it all, his optic rested on Megatron's image, filling himself with the knowledge and the sensory experience of the Leader who sent him this energon. "Thank you," he said, as the flow of energon passed the halfway point of his currently-alloted portion.
Megatron gulped some more energon, sending tremors through Shockwave's partially-energized systems, stronger now that he was better-fueled himself. So much energy! Shockwave's engine ran faster, hotter, less efficiently, unconsciously reacting to the sight of such plenty. "Lord Megatron--!"
"You may have another eighth, Shockwave, my Guardian," Megatron said fondly, lifting his two-third-full cube to the top of Shockwave's video display. "To Cybertron!"
"To Cybertron!" Shockwave agreed, lifting his own cube up, and in so elevating it, increasing the velocity of the fuel flow. "To the Ruler of the Galaxy!" he said, with an exuberance that he seldom felt, even for his Leader.
"To me!" Megatron agreed, and took another large gulp of energy. "Take more, Shockwave, he said, lowering the cube and moving his free hand down out of sight; from the angle of movement and the very slight sounds, Shockwave could vividly picture his leader rubbing his own trigger.
"To Lord Megatron...!" Shockwave raised the cube even further than before, dizzying himself with the shock of energy as his seldom-used cooling fans whirred into action, audibly demonstrating the sheer heat he felt from the gift Megatron had given him.
"Yes--! Someday, Shockwave, I will rule the universe, and send all its wealth back to Cybertron! And you will build our planet into a capital the galaxy has never known!" Megatron's systems hummed higher and higher, faster and faster, as he dreamed and watched (Shockwave was energized enough to suppose) the very cornerstone of those dreams, Shockwave, his guardian...and moved his hidden hand faster on the trigger Shockwave had seen so very seldom since the Nemesis had left.
"With all my power, Megatron," Shockwave said, fervently, and then became dizzy once more as the flow of fuel automatically cut off at the limit Megatron--and his own systems--had given him.
He lowered the cube, awaiting Megatron's decision.
"Drink it. All of it," Megatron declared. "There's more where that came from!"
"My Lord!" The sudden flood of energy as Shockwave complied with the request overwhelmed his systems altogether; after four million years of starvation, he was still ill-prepared for this. He hit overload, repeatedly and continuously, for several astroseconds, and then he had only a moment to glimpse Megatron's still-hungry optics and hear his roar of pleasure and satiation as he tripped over into unconsciousness.
It was fortunate that he always recorded these sessions.