SOUNDWAVE IS SUPERIOR

Megatron had opted into dragging you into his private wash racks to clean the mess you'd made of yourself with his permission.

The solvent guiding Megatron's servos, dragging against the dips and small gaps exposing the rather sensitive seams between your armor plates. The ones that were slightly exposed due to the solvents warm temperature. Megatron savoring every barely audible sound that he managed to pull from your frame with his lenient treatment. Making mental note of where you seemed to have more of a reaction to his touch for later in the night.

You were tense. Obviously aware you were very much still in trouble for your earlier show of unrestrained debauchery. Though recalling the scene Megatron can’t help wondering if perhaps that was not the first time you’d disgraced the nemesis hallway with such unchecked degeneracy. The thought only causing his digit pads to press firmer on your frame. Due to the mere very possible notion that you’d been sullying yourself, out where any one of the Decepticons could have very well caught a glimpse of you.

And the presumption that Megatron had missed multiple opportunities to have done this much sooner.

Your em field was kept tight enough against yourself Megatron could not glimpse what you were feeling through it. However the way your plating flattened when Megaton's servos slid down past your hips showed your trepidation quite clear.

You were a good Decepticon.

And as one you had rightfully learned that respect and fear were tantamount within the Decepticon ranks.

Though in your particular position Megatron required you to be more… innate.

Troublesome as it was with Megatron already keeping his wants and actions towards you with carefully considered moderation.

If he had embraced the entire fulfillment of his desires he’d of pinned you against his wash rack wall and taken you here and now. And he would not have stopped until you were so ravished by him that your frame would be anything but tense. Plating slack, seams and wire gaps exposed for Megatron to leer and fan his digits over. Em field splayed warm and responsive to his every touch.

Bright optics focused right on his.

Megatron’s gaze left your chassis to meet your optics again.

You were staring at his own servos- no he would be a fool to assume you were looking at anything but your own pedes.

But no matter. Megatron would simply have to make a point of showing you exactly how… endeared he was to you.

Now won’t he?

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After drying both yourself and him he’d guided you to his berth and told you to take a seat next to himself on the edge of said berth.

Him saying your designation makes your gaze turn towards him. Megatron makes sure he keeps it before he continues. “Well, I believe we can continue with your punishments, soldier.” Your optic ridge barely creases and he would not have noticed if his optics weren’t directly on you. Megatron catches his digit underneath your chin and tilts it, not giving you the moment to even think of turning away from him. “Oh, don’t be so dire, soldier. This next one will be simple.” He watches your expression smooth before transforming.

Your servos instinctively catch his frame and your em field betrays your shock for but a moment.

Your servos unsteady from the unfamiliarity of holding him. You not used to handling his gun mode yet. Megatron had barley approved you for practice firing him a mere earth month ago. The steady way Starscream, Soundwave, or even Skywarp would handle him was absent from your digits. You quickly adjusted to handle him like a standard blaster. And it makes Megatron suddenly feel vindictive enough not to hesitate with his next order.

“Now I want you to service me like a spike, and do not stop till I’m satisfied.” The mental neural link that allows you to hear him makes you flinch. Or perhaps it was the order itself registering.

You looked down at him and your optics cycled multiple times. Optic ridge furrowing slightly as you gawked.

Megatron allowed you a few more moments to compose yourself before speaking to you once more. “Well soldier? I’m waiting.” You swallow and stare for another moment.

Before slowly slowly turning Megatron's model around to face you.

You hold the barrel towards your face plate and tentatively open your mouth.

But instead of taking the muzzle inside, you tilt him backwards and quickly run your warm glossia flat over the entire length of the barrel up to the muzzle. Megatron can’t stop the grunt at the act when you repeat it, now starting down by the trigger guard this time. And you simply continued with experimental laps on the exterior of his model.

You tilt him to the side and drag your hot glossia on the side of his model before you find his safety catch. The tip of your glossia circled over the mark in his metal before you continue on to his barrel pin and dip your glossia into the small Indent. Megatron can feel the heat that was demanding satisfaction since he’d caught you a joor ago return with a vengeance. The metal in his alt mode was unyielding like his root frame and refused to shift in demand to the charge now jumping inside him.

The fact only makes his model start jittering softly in your grip when you circle your glossia and than close your mouth around the hammer of his model. The sudden quick build of heat caused by you swallowing around the hammer makes him jolt lightly in your servos.

But you stopped to pull away from him and you ask him if that was any good, since you’ve never done this with a weapon model before.

Megatron lets the ache that’s pressing against his plating from how aroused he is to simmer into the background. He huffs “Yes. Your performance is adequate… so far. Now dear solider, do I need to guide you for this next part?” You don’t respond so Megatron continues. “Put the barrel in your mouth.”

You swallow again and slowly but surely bring his muzzle up towards your derma. “Yes, yes. Good. Just like that.” He reassures you and you finally allow the flat muzzle of his gun mode to touch your glossia. You tentatively lap the flat of it, all before your glossia dips right into the bore of his muzzle. Megatron is suddenly very glad his own em field is essentially non existent in his alt mode. But he still finds himself fighting to allow his frame to jostle any further than a slight shiver. “Yes- Yes. Take me deeper now.” He’s well aware you more than certainly heard the slight shift in his tone. But he alternatively focuses on the soft sound the order drags out of you.

You obey regardless, gradually sliding the start of his muzzle in your mouth. Glossia now pressing lightly on the underside of the barrel. The next circling motion of your glossia makes his spark throb in response and his hammer to click. You notice the soft sound and almost pull him out of your mouth. “I’m not satisfied yet, solider-!” You jerk to a stop at his voice and leisurely reposition the muzzle were it just was. Megatron reveling in the slow drag of your glossia on the way there.

Megatron sighs when you slide his muzzle even further in your mouth before stopping. You swallow thickly around it and Megatron can’t help the soft rumble that shakes his plating. You hum in obvious confusion and the sound reverberated against his own struts. The ball wounding around his spark getting tighter and more unstable by the nanoklick. “Move, solider.” he manages the order without sounding too strained.

You follow his command with yet another soft tantalizing hum- the noise nearly as devastating as the last. Then you slowly pull his model away with your servos on his grip. One of your digit pads teasingly sliding along his trigger guard. You pull his muzzle back until he risks slipping out of your mouth- only you lap your glossia over the front of his muzzle once more before slowly sliding him back inside.

Megatons trigger partially clicks when your glossia swirls on the underside as you take him back into your mouth. You swallow around him again and he can physically feel his barrel heating up under your attention. Your servos and digits have stopped knuckle tight holding his handle grip and slowly begun wandering more. One of your servos finds his hammer and you softly and repeatedly start treating the under curved side of it like a worry stone. The digit that was teasing the outer edge of his trigger guard had moved to tease the inside of it. Digit deliberately getting slower when you glided past his actual trigger.

Megatron focuses on the sensation of it all- of you servicing him like this. Wordlessly obeying as he guides you through the motions. But you still surprise him by… adding your own touches to the act. The longer he concentrates on your sinful touch the more he notices these little touches.

The way your digits slide soft but not soft enough they aren’t pleasurable.

The way your glossia continues to lap against the bore of his muzzle every pull back and even circles the rim of it but doesn’t quite dip into it again.

The way your em field-

Megatron's pleasure hazy processor laser focuses on that observation he’d just made.

He focuses on the touch of it.

Your em field was hot- very hot.

And Megatron was no fool- You were aroused.

You were getting off on this! On servicing him- Not even his spike but servicing his alt mode!

A groan hums inside himself and it manifests in his alt mode as a deep shake. “Faster-!” he orders and you hum again. The quickened pace makes more of your oral lubricant coat his barrel and his plating to heat further. He doesn’t miss the muffled sound you begin making when his muzzle kisses the start of your throat. Especially not when Megatron can feel the sound every time you keep making it. And what he could only describe as utter delight rushes through him when he quickly realizes your sounds are quiet muffled moans. His hammer clicks hard enough that his trigger twitches in response.

Megatron would’ve sucked in a vent if he was capable of such a feat, to help assist his rapidly fogging processor. Rather he’s stuck with his thoughts rapidly becoming more muddled with every searing drag of your glossia and teasing touch of your digits. Megatron feels his spark jump and he can barely get his tone even enough before he orders you once again. “Swallow it, solider-!” His hammer finally clicks fully and pleasure zaps up his barrel and through his muzzle. His trigger pulls with a sharp sound and he’s overloading right into your waiting mouth.

You made a sound of audible shock when you half choke on the first splash of his transfluid, your servos tightening on him. Some spills down the side of your derma. But you recover quickly, rapidly swallowing down everything you can in heavy gulps. The extra energy discharging out from his muzzle is buzzing on the flat of your glossia. Your glossia jerks against the underside of his barrel at the very slight buzz of electricity, no doubt now coating it along with his transfluid. Megatron groans and he lately realizes he transferred the sound through the neural link when your em field flexes just mildly warmer in response.

Oh, he’d give you something to get excited about-!

Once he stops pumping thick shots of transfluid down your throat you swallow around him again. Your glossia lazily lapping on the underside of the barrel when you start pulling it out. And when it reaches your derma you lapped your glossia against the muzzle, and dip your glossia into the bore a second time.

Which only makes Megatron activate his transformation and jump out of your servos.

As soon as his pedes touch the floor Megatron moves. His servo finds your chassis and he pushes you flat down onto his berth and he’s climbing on top of you in one motion. He’s panting in quick vents and he can feel that the inside of his modesty panel is practically soaked in his own fluids. Megatron can feel his own valve lubricant slipping though the small gaps in the metal. You have a streak of his transfluid spilling down your derma and chin, and are staring up at him. Bright opticed and venting softly.

Megatron's servo finds your chin and tilts it for himself to lean down and drag his glossia over the edge of your jaw. Following the line of his own split transfluid all the way up to your derma. He pulls back to look you right in the optics.

You hold his gaze waiting for him to speak.

His modesty panel snaps back “Very good. Next is my reward for you, solider.” Megatron kisses you, not wasting time to slip his glossia into your mouth. A noise of surprise escapes you but you try to keep up with his own set pace. Megatron can taste himself on your glossia and in your oral lubricant.

And that was exactly as it should be.