Yes, yes my friends, she is truly an evil evil creature. With her around, the porn never ends! *eg*
Title: When The Cat's Away, The Mice Will Play
Author: Moonbeam's Predilections
Genre: Transformers G1 -- Kinky sticky fic! (D'uh!)
Word Count: 2,500 words
Notes: This story is a sequel to Obscene Comm Calls by katsuko, which is a sequel to Size Doesn't Matter, Except When It Does by me (moonbeamsfanfic), which was written in response to this prompt at tfanonkink, the Transformers Anonymous Kink Meme. You should probably be reading these in order, m'kay?
When The Cat's Away, The Mice Will Play
Starscream took great care to arrange himself comfortably before he activated the base-wide comm. line.
“Rumble, report to the control room immediately.”
Most of the base was taking the opportunity for a little illicit downtime with Megatron and a select squad of his choice off on a supposedly ‘delicate’ mission. Left in charge alone, Starscream would have usually taken this chance to steal Megatron’s throne and exert his rightful place as high ruler over all Decepticons. But, for some reason, he’d been feeling a little bit mellower lately and decided he simply didn’t have the patience to deal with the horde of idiot masses that made up the stupidly-loyal Decepticon army right now.
Besides, he had something different in mind for Megatron’s throne at the moment.
With a grin, Starscream settled himself deeper into the large chair he’d (temporarily, drats!) appropriated as he waited for a certain blue Cassetticon to comply with his order. Revving his turbines idly, he kicked his right leg where it hung over one of the chair’s large armrests. The heat and vibrations from his active thruster could soon be felt every time his pede smacked into the side of the chair.
Into the side of Megatron’s chair.
Starscream threw back his helm and started cackling, uncontrollably pleased by the idea. Oh, this was going to be good! He almost wished he’d thought of it sooner...
That’s how Rumble found him when he finally walked in. “You screeched, not-so-fearless never-gonna-be-leader?”
Starscream’s cackle abruptly cut-off. Turning his head, he locked optics with the disgruntled minicon. (Disgruntled because Soundwave had elected to leave him behind, while taking all his siblings on Megatron’s stupid mission. Well, okay, he didn’t take Ratbat... but that didn’t count! He took Frenzy; they were a pair! He should’ve gone too, not been left behind to bat-sit the littlest of them. It wasn’t fair!)
“Ah, Rumble, excellent,” Starscream purred, beckoning the not-altogether-paying-attention Cassette with a crooked finger. “Come here, I’ve got a special assignment for you.”
Rumble slumped miserably up to where the jet lounged in the middle of the empty control room. “What is it, ‘Screamer? I’m not feeling up to anything hard right now.”
Starscream snickered, then reached out to pet the little mech soothingly. “Oh, you poor baby, but maybe I’ll be able to change your mind.”
The tone – or maybe it was the hand drifting down his chassis – finally sunk in to Rumble’s processor and he clued in to what the Seeker was up to. Instantly cheering up, he quickly decided that maybe being passed over for a mission wasn’t quite the misfortune he’d initially thought.
“Feeling horny are we, Starscream?” he asked, leaning into the caresses. “Well, why didn’t you just say so? I coulda met you in the storage room.” He reached out to stroke the Seeker in return.
Starscream clamped a hand on his arm before it could touch him.
“Oh no, little Cassette, not this time.” Starscream sneered at the confused head tilt the visored mech gave him. “After the way you teased me earlier in this very room? Making all those sweet delicious promises, getting me off on just your words alone? Oh no, Rumble... this time, we do things my way.”
Starscream pulled Rumble closer, until the smaller mech brushed right up against his burning interface panel where his aft was perched on the edge of the throne. He smiled widely as the Cassetticon instinctively ground his hips into Starscream’s pelvis. Then with a smirk, he kicked the minicon away.
“This time, Rumble,” he purred vindictively, “you’re going to have to work for it.”
And as Rumble lay gaping up at him from where he’d fallen, Starscream calmly released his interface panel to bare his valve. Only mildly aroused yet, the sensitive valve was still relatively dry as Starscream rubbed his fingers over its surface, making sure the minicon could see clearly.
“Well?” he prompted, directing a challenging look to the dazed mech on the floor. “You’d better get started. I’ve still got a long way to go.”
Unable to back down from a challenge – any challenge, let alone such an enticing one – Rumble let a mocking leer of his own slant his lips as he got back to his pedes. “As you command, my lord.”
Starscream’s optic’s shuttered in pleasure, his idly circling finger beginning to glisten moistly from his valve’s increased coolant-production. “Mmm, off to a good start already I see.”
“I’m about to make things much better,” Rumble promised. Without hesitation, he put both hands on the jet’s white thighs and bent to lick his valve.
Starscream gasped, armour shifting as he allowed the attention – for a while. Then, smirk reappearing, he pushed the other mech away once again.
“Ah, ah, ah! Did I say you could touch me? That’s not how this game is played.”
Rumble threw up his hands in exasperation. “Gah! ‘Screamer, you contrary glitch! What in the pits do you want from me?!”
Fans humming pleasantly, Starscream dipped his fingers back along his valve, now wet as much from Rumble’s glossa as his own coolant. The dastardly jet let his helm fall back against the throne as he gloried in Rumble’s arduously aroused stare. He drew the torment out a little longer, relishing each involuntary groan to slip out of his riveted audience’s vocaliser.
“Why, I want you to talk me into overload of course. Just like you did right in this room a few cycles ago. Only this time you’ll get the great honour of watching while I act out your fantasies. And maybe, if you’re really lucky,” Starscream cajoled, “I’ll even let you join in at the end.”
Intrigued by the possibilities but unwilling to show it, Rumble crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “And if I told you to go frag yourself?”
One of Starscream’s clawtips sank into his valve. “No problem,” he said blithely, as the rest of his finger followed. Purring in pleasure, finger pumping slowly inside his own valve, Starscream cast a provocative look at the shocked Cassette. “Any other suggestions?”
Rumble grinned. “Yeah, fire up your thrusters here,” he motioned to the heel on the floor, waiting until Starscream looked interested and complied. “Then bend it up a little, yeah like that... a little more... that’s it.”
The Seeker did as asked, bending his left leg until the heel hovered in the air above his open interface panel.
“Now shove down it your intake pipes.”
A quick kick in the face from the hovering thruster paid the minicon back for his impertinence. “Knock it off, runt. Don’t try to get smart with me.” He glared threateningly at the Cassette. “You’re not that good at it.”
“Now,” Starscream continued, settling back into position as if nothing had happened. “Let’s try this again. And try to restrain your faulty humour chips from ruining the mood any further, hmm?”
Rumble shrugged agreeably, still grinning from his prank. “Hey, it was worth a shot! Besides, you don’t look like anything’s going to be ruining the mood for you as long as you’re sitting in Megatron’s throne. Primus, and you called me the one with the power issues!”
“Mmm, but then you made this wonderful suggestion and I just had to try it out.”
Rumble checked his data banks. “Uh, pretty sure I said I’d bend you over his throne to ‘face ya into overload.”
Starscream locked an optic on him, lips curling. “You just might yet, Rumble. But only if you’re very very good.”
“I can do good,” Rumble assured and he set out to prove it.
Relentlessly, Rumble drove the Seeker closer and closer to overload with nothing but his voice. He described acts of unspeakable dirtiness and Starscream unashamedly performed them all. Thrilling with the power he held over the infamously cantankerous officer, Rumble got more and more creative in his directions. His own systems revved hotter with every stroke, flick and obscene lick he talked the writhing Seeker into.
Starscream reacted to the tone as much as he did to the words. Valve dripping coolant steadily, he obeyed orders from Rumble in a way he never would have for Megatron. Turbines spinning helplessly and fans working overtime, he pleasured his own body in accordance with every one of Rumble’s seductively uttered instructions. He kept his optics locked on the smaller mech as much as possible, his exhibitionist tendencies enjoying Rumble’s vicarious arousal as much as his own.
“Rub your wings like that, yeah,” Rumble’s voice rumbled out lowly, as the jet did everything he said. “Slick your coolant all over those pretty wings, ‘Screamer, get ‘em nice and wet with your own dripping fluids. Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Look at you, you’re loving this. I know you are, I can feel your fluctuating energy fields from here. You’re so ready to come, ain’tcha? But you can’t yet, you gotta finish bathing all those overheating sensors with what’s secreting out of your leaking, slutty valve. Go on, dip your fingers in deep, scoop out some of that delicious coolant. Yeah, yeah, that’s it... Oh, you got it all over your hand, Starscream? Makin’ a mess, gonna have to clean it up. Good thing it’s so tasty, isn’t it? Oooooh, yeah...”
As Rumble trailed off into a groan watching Starscream’s pert little glossa dart all around his own fingers dripping with excess coolant, he finally snapped. Unable to take the torment anymore, his retracted his own interface panel and fisted his rising spike. He stroked himself harshly, squeezing as only he knew how to trigger the few sensory nodes deep within the metal cabling.
Watching him right back, Starscream licked a stripe of viscous coolant from the back of his hand, heedless of the traces of fluid he left smeared obscenely across his lips. Plating glistening nearly everywhere from his own coolant, he purred as gathered up some of the excess pouring from his throbbing valve and wrapped his wet hand around Rumble’s spike himself.
Rumble shuddered, his own hand falling away to allow the Seeker to take over. The feel of the jet’s larger hand encircling his tense spike in a cool, slick grip made his legs weaken. “I thought – ooh, do that again! – thought you said ‘no touching’.”
“I said you couldn’t touch me,” Starscream wrenched his wrist, drawing a shout of overwhelmed pleasure from the minicon. “I never said anything about me not touching you.”
“Dirty fragger,” Rumble moaned, body swaying in time to the Seeker’s movements on his spike. “S’not fair. Wanna, wanna, wan—ooh...!”
Growing impatient and desperate for release, Starscream gave Rumble one last squeeze before letting go. Before Rumble could protest, Starscream hooked his leg around the Cassetticon’s back and pulled him tight to his body. Rumble wasted no time lining his spike up with Starscream’s yearning valve and sinking deep.
The entry thrust alone was enough to set off the worked-up jet’s first overload. Valve clenching and rippling along Rumble’s spike, Starscream shook with pleasure. Rumble rode it out, well used to the pattern he and the valve-only Seeker had established. He enjoyed the sensations tingling along his spike as Starscream’s extremely sensitive valve experienced the first of many overloads to come.
Rumble set a hard pace. Starscream was already as aroused as he could be, and Rumble wanted him to feel it for having put him through the last few joors of near torture. Starscream cried out, vents sucking in air noisily as Rumble pounded his valve with every thrust. Wings still glistening with his own coolant, Starscream leaned back against the throne to let the surprisingly soft metal of Megatron’s favourite chair stimulate his wings as Rumble stimulated every node cluster in his valve.
Revelling in the sensations, Starscream treated Rumble to some extra stimulation as well and started vocally praising the Cassetticon with graphic, slutty descriptions of just how good Rumble’s spike felt moving inside his valve.
“Feels so good, the way your spike rubs along my valve walls. Your spike is just the perfect size, like it was made for me. Specially designed just to fit my valve, to slot in so deep and smooth and set all my sensory nodes aflame. Do you feel that? How my valve clenches tight each time you withdraw? It doesn’t want you to leave, wants you to stay inside me, working me, driving me into overload all the time. And I would if I could, Rumble,” Starscream whispered filthily into Rumble audio receptors. “I’d keep you locked inside all the time, if I could. Always there to serve me, existing solely to pleasure me into overload after exquisite overload. Do you think you’d like that? I bet you would.”
“When Megatron returns,” Starscream continued, mercilessly ramping up the charge building in Rumble’s frame as both his valve and his vocaliser worked in tandem. “He’ll find his seat stained by the pool of our combined fluids and he’ll never know who did it. He’ll always wonder, and even if he manages to clean it all off, he’ll always remember it was there. And so will we, every time we come into the room, we’ll see his throne and remember how we messed it up. Every boring shift, every boring meeting... we’ll look at this throne and my valve will start aching for your spike to do it all again. Every. Time!”
The turned tables of dirty-talk worked as well on Rumble as they had on Starscream. Rumble’s body, conditioned over repeated cycles of frequent and always amazing ‘facing, was already wired to blow. When the call came over the control room communications grid announcing the return of Megatron and his party, it was the final push he needed. With a cry, Rumble fell into overload. His spike drove forward a last few times, spearing deep into the Seeker’s valve and pulling Starscream shrieking with him.
Rumble recovered slowly to find Starscream slumped tiredly over the throne’s armrests. The Seeker’s optics were offline, but Rumble knew he was still awake by the silly satisfied smile gracing the dark dermal plates.
“Guess I don’t have to ask if it was good for you,” Rumble preened, mentally patting himself on the back for another successful interface session.
Starscream stretched languidly, the movement finally expelling Rumble’s spent spike from his soaked valve. Still wearing the immensely satisfied smile, Starscream sat up to look at the puddle of mixed fluids between his thighs.
“Oh, dear,” he simpered audaciously, “looks like we made a mess. And Megatron’s already back. I guess we’ll have no time to clean it up. What a pity.”
He contemplated the mess for a moment before letting a truly devilish grin cross his lips.
“Oh well. Care to join me in the washracks, Rumble?”
Rumble looked at the mess on both suicidal Seeker and seat, and shrugged. “It’s your funeral,” he said, and allowed Starscream to drag him out the back exit just as the main doors to the control room opened.
EDIT: Changed the title. ::shrugs:: Dang titles are always the hardest part for me.