G1 MegatronxStarscream as my dirty mind sees it. This is a step out of "what is" and into "what could be" and might be the kinkiest thing I've ever written.


Beautiful Agony


Trust was not something he offered anyone.

To the outside observer one would think Megatron trusted no one.

But...he did have someone. His second in command.

Their public displays were all an act--a ruse to disguise the relationship they had behind closed doors. Both knew if it became public, their partnership would be used against them at the first opportunity. Thusly, both agreed to keep their affections secret...even to the point of one killing the other if necessary.

Megatron secretly liked to give up control. He liked to feel the helplessness and humiliation of a prisoner. For thousands of years he used to lie in the brig late at night, gaze at the torture devices and long to receive the lashing and cursing he often dealt out.

Starscream liked to take control. It was quite a surprise for Megatron the one time he went to the old brig and spied Starscream smashing the electric whips and cat-o-nines against a wall.

That night, Megatron longed no more.

Four million years and they still met regularly. Which was why Megatron was in the brig now.

He'd been disarmed of all weapons. Black water paint rendered his optics useless. His codpiece had been entirely removed, leaving his access port exposed. Magnetic cuffs bound his hands behind his back. A chain attached to the ceiling wrenched his arms upwards, which caused his body to bow down. Around his neck he wore a thick metal collar with a thinner chain connected to the spreader bar forcing his legs a shoulder-width apart. The final touch was a ring gag holding his mouth open in an undignified gape.

Other than raising his head, he could not move without endangering his balance. He couldn't speak beyond unintelligible noises. He was completely and utterly helpless.

The safety gesture was raising both little fingers straight up. Never utilized, but agreed upon in advance to prevent serious injury or distress.

Someone turned on the lights--or shut them off--impossible to tell through the paint. Footsteps plunked against the metal floor. Illogical fear of the unknown wound its icy fingers through the pit of his fuel tanks and across his Spark. He relished it like a fine flavor.

Fingers roughly grabbed his chin and forced his head up. They were strong fingers belonging to equally strong hands. A high, hoarse voice hissed in his ear, "You're so pathetic, Megatron!"

Megatron growled at the insult, and almost immediately an open hand slapped his left cheek.

"Did I say you could make any noise?"

"'ah--eam..." Megatron snarled.

Another slap on the other cheek, harder, stinging. "That would be 'Master Starscream' to you..." Starscream's soft lips touched his audio sensor, "if you could talk, that is, you pathetic whelp."

Megatron tried instinctively to spit out the ring gag. His efforts won a slap right across his mouth. The blow had enough power to knock his head back.

"I didn't say you could squirm." Starscream said in a low tone. His footsteps clanked a distance to the left, paused and returned.

Something rustled. A switch flicked.

Megatron's Spark paused again at the sound of electricity crackling inches from his nose.

"Don't move, slave," Starscream warned.

An instant after Starscream spoke, Megatron squinted.

The response was immediate, electric and spread exquisite stinging across his backside. Starscream wielded the electric cat-o-nines like an dream. Usually he began with just one wire actively charged and gradually worked up to all nine tails.

"When I say 'don't move,' I mean it!" Another lash cast white lines of sensation across Megatron's cheek. Two tails were lit now. "Still good?"

Megatron nodded, straining against his restraints. Choked sounds emanated from his vocal processor. He felt the cold metal butt of the cat-o-nine force his head back.

"Good, I'd hate it if you off-lined on me, you sissy." Starscream backhanded him, "Hear that? You're a sissy!"

"Ah-ah," Megatron garbled through the ring. First fear and now the hot twinges of anger activating signals normally associated with his battle programming. "'ha' ooh!"

"Did you just..." Starscream's voice rose in disbelief and Megatron felt the Seeker's face pulling into a sneer, "...oh, you insolent pile of scrap!" he cracked the cat-o-nines against Megatron's cheeks, "For this, you will be punished."

The crackling torture device moved away, snapped and Megatron felt the two active tails crash across his backside with a resounding SMACK. Between lashes, Starscream let the tails rest on his armor. Megatron bent forward further, his restraints jingling in protest. He trembled first in pleasure and then pain as the cat-o-nine was withdrawn and smashed into his aft before the pleasant tingle had entirely faded. Again Starscream held it there. Megatron relaxed when prickling overlapped the sting.

So it was--







--until he reached a state of euphoria somewhere beyond himself. His neural network had been electrified to the point that it mimicked the out-of-body sensation of energon intoxication. He still strained, gasped in pain and sighed in pleasure--yet felt almost detached. Any longer and he'd just float off into--


Starscream booted him in the side, jarring him from his reverie.

"Stop sniveling!"

"Uh!" Megatron grunted. He writhed as much as he dared in his precarious position while simultaneously mourning his blissful interlude.

A tickling on his left side. Starscream had retrieved the tickle rod--a simple bar with a static-inducing ball on its tip. Without a word, Starscream jammed the rod into Megatron's shoulder joint.

The itchy tingle sent Megatron writhing even though he couldn't escape the sensation. He shook his head and gasped. He wanted that rod thrust against his access port. Anywhere but his ticklish shoulder!

That hoarse, slightly caring voice whispered in his audio sensor, "Are we good?"


For one second, Starscream granted his desire. Megatron snarled at the sudden, heated feeling pillaging his port--only to be withdrawn seconds before his overload. Static snapped around his joints as smoke rose from his gagged jaws.

"You are being a bad bot today." Megatron's head was suddenly wrenched up and the active end of the cat-o-nine thrust between his gaping lips, "I thought I told you to be quiet!"

Electricity shot agony through his head and neck. Megatron wailed like a Sparkling because he knew it'd egg Starscream on. Before he knew it, Starscream was lashing his aft again. Three hot tails. Then four. Five. On and on until all nine burned like claws attacking his innards. Starscream called him names the whole time.



Sniveling fool.


Slag pile.

Each word from those dark lips whittled Megatron down until tears threatened to escape. The lashing made his port ache with arousal. Hot, searing, stinging pounded him between his legs like the physical entity whipping his back.

"I should leave you like this for the whole base to see," growled Starscream. His voice trembled with clear arousal that only intensified Megatron's growing lust. "What would your army think if they knew what a sissy you are? You couldn't lead yourself out of an overturned energon cube! That's why I am in command here and you hang there like trash."

Megatron's deepest fear was his army finding out about his fetish. Starscream always played on it--and with his optics blocked, Megatron had no idea whether or not Starscream left the door open. The not knowing made his circuits vibrate intermittent caution warnings.

"That's right--I should tell everybody here what a simpering weakling you are. They'll laugh for eons!"

He shook his head vigorously, begging Starscream not to because he knew it excited him.

"Aw," fingers traced his jaw and painfully stretched lips. So long with the gag in place let mech fluid build up in his mouth and dribble down his chin, his body's attempt to wash away the foreign object. Drooling, he was drooling like a common Earth dog! "Poor, pathetic slave...bah! You aren't even worthy to be called a Decepticon!"

It hurt. Like daggers, the words combined with the physical torture cut through him until his shredded pieces found escape as oily fluid from the corner of his left optic.

Starscream slugged him in the jaw and pushed his head back with the handle of the cat-o-nine, which still crackled actively in his fist. "And what is this?" His smooth glossa lapped up the teardrop, "Now you're crying? Disgusting." That tongue outlined his lips and dipped through the gag to tease the roof of his mouth. Megatron tried to kiss back, but the gag depressed his tongue.

Megatron rewarded him with more silent tears that painted golden trails on his angular cheeks. Each droplet justified all the pain he caused to others, all the lives he had to take to get one step closer to his dream of controlling Cybertron.

And Starscream lashed his back and aft for each tear. Giving him the physical agony he desired.

"Still good?"

Megatron jerked his head up and down in a nod. He wanted to be struck. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to cry.

Starscream resumed, alternating the cat-o-nine with the tickle rod. Over and over until Megatron's entire body screamed in pain, pleasure and humiliation. He was lower than dirt, degraded to nothing and slowly slipping back to that far-away floating place beyond his body.

Finally, after what seemed like blissful eternity, the cat-o-nine ceased its sizzling. Then the tension pulling his arms nearly out of their sockets released, freeing his hands. A firm touch pushed him backwards--his walk was awkward because of the leg spreader bar on his ankles--and he fell onto his back across an uncomfortably cold metal table. The sudden chill shocked his burning sensors, wrenching a strangled groan from his throat.

"Shut up, sniveling weakling!" snarled Starscream. His voice had dropped to a lower register, that register Megatron loved because it meant he was at his breaking point too.

Megatron's hands were hastily bound to a hook above his head, rendering helpless once more.

And then his world dissolved to static as Starscream dragged the cat-o-nine down the entire front of his body. Burning electricity sizzled over his most sensitive nerve bundles. He writhed, unable to tell Starscream anything because of the gag--a gag to symbolize all those he silenced forever.

Thirty seconds before overload, Megatron felt the cat-o-nine disappear, replaced by the weight of Starscream straddling his hips. His back still stung, his wrists ached from the restraints, he was cold and tears still flowed from his eyes, thinning the paint enough to see Starscream's outline. He turned his head as lips trailed over his smooth throat.

"Now that's a good slave," whispered Starscream. He stroked Megatron's cheek, "It's going to be okay now."

The gag kept Megatron from replying. His face twisted in a mix of agony and rapture. Parts of him were still euphoric, the same feelings he felt after a powerful overload.

Starscream brought their ports into contact. "Overload for me, slave."

Megatron arched his hips towards his lover. That voice drove him towards ecstasy.

"I said..." The Seeker lifted his hips and thrust them back down while simultaneously slapping Megatron's face, "overload for me!"

The flaming tingle lingering in Megatron's circuits flooded his body in a vibrating conflagration that emptied away his guilt. The pain and pleasure washed his conscience with the forgiveness he could never offer to himself. He cried out when he heard Starscream shriek in release.

He felt Starscream's weight collapse across his chest. The smell of hot solder and oil filled the room in a post-sex haze.

Neither spoke for ages.

Megatron forced himself not to think. Not now. Not until later, when recharge forced his mind to circle nothing else.

Starscream's weight rolled off his chest. The gag was removed. Megatron worked his sore jaw open and shut a few times, glad to be rid of the uncomfortable metal ring.

A sponge dripping hot water wiped the paint off his optics. The lights had been lowered so they wouldn't shock his vision. He gazed up at a the rare, caring expression crossing Starscream's handsome gray features.

"Sit tight so I can clean you up. That's an order."

"As you wish--"

"As you wish, 'Master.'"


Starscream started to wash the tears from Megatron's face. More welled up. Megatron did not sob or whimper, there were only tears--tears that were quickly wiped away while another hand stroked his helm.

"That's a good slave," whispered the Seeker. He maintained eye contact throughout the process of unhooking the handcuffs and releasing the chains. His gentle hands rubbed the faint scratches the metal cuffs dug into Megatron's wrist joints.

Shaking, Megatron turned on his side and buried his face in Starscream's lap. The comfort he sought came as a hand rubbing his back.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Megatron scoffed. Guilt had no place in a ruthless leader's Spark. "So, same time next week?"

"I'll be here." Starscream nodded, set aside the sponge and stood up. "I'll be watching you, so behave yourself."

"No," the silver mech smirked.

Shadows crossed Starscream's handsome face. A fierce kiss forced Megatron back onto the shockingly cold berth. He relished those dark, soothing lips against his sore, tired ones.

Then a strong finger jammed into his port. Hard. Painful. Punishing. It scraped across his wiring. Another hand pressed against his mouth, robbing him of his ability to speak.

"This is for defying me to my face," whispered Starscream, his voice a sibilant hiss. He straddled Megatron again, growling, "Don't make a sound. Get your hand off my aft! You've been bad, so you don't get to touch me unless I say so, slave."

Megatron's arousal shot through the roof. He suffered the beautiful agony Starscream inflicted in silence, the only sound being his intakes cycling a mile a minute. Overload came on fast, and he endured it without a single moan. Only the flare of his optics and his stiff limbs hinted at the pleasure coursing under his armor.

"Mmm, YES!" In contrast, Starscream arched his back and wailed at the ceiling. Oh how Megatron longed to grab him and swallow those moans. But he did not. He was being punished for misbehaving. His penance was losing his rights to touch his lover, the same rights he robbed from the bond-mate of every bot he killed. So he endured the sensual sight with his hands planted at his sides, immobile.

It was punishment. Beautiful, agonizing punishment. Megatron suffered and enjoyed every painful moment.