[TFP] Words of Praise
Mar. 18th, 2015 05:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: Here's another piece written for the Valentine's BDSM challenge. This one stood well enough on it's own so I decided to post it separately. This one's been cleaned up, edited, and expanded just a teensy bit. It is NSFW and self-betaed. Enjoy!
Title: Words of Praise
Universe: Transformers: Prime Season Three
Characters: MegatronxSoundwave
Rating: R
Warnings: tactile, dom/sub overtones
Description: There was nothing more arousing than the sound of Megatron's approval.
Lord Megatron was feeling mischievous today. Soundwave sensed the edge of it as his lord paced back and forth behind him, always on the edge of Soundwave's visual feed and within range of his external sensory net.
It was late into the night shift with only Vehicons on the bridge for company. No Knock Out. No Starscream. No Shockwave. No predacon beast.
One might almost call it peaceful.
Lord Megatron prowled behind him with the stalking grace of a feline predator. His optics were pinned on the empty dock between Soundwave's shoulders, where Ravage had once been.
Soundwave, cabled to his console, knew what his lord wanted.
He ejected Laserbeak, sending the drone into the shadows of the ceiling. Watch and record. Lord Megatron enjoyed reliving the experience afterward. He would want to watch with Soundwave in his lap, open to his whims.
Now Lord Megatron slinked closer, his gaze searing heat into Soundwave's back.
One finger traced the furthest edge of a panel with a skreel of metal. Vehicons looked up but knew better than to comment. By the end, they would all be watching. Lord Megatron never minded their observation.
“Should I leave you be, Soundwave?” Lord Megatron purred, his lust pulsing against Soundwave's field, igniting a skip of heat.
“Or should I continue?” The pad of one finger stroked the Decepticon brand on Soundwave's elongated arm panel.
His armor plates shuffled in a telltale ripple of desire.
No. He did not wish for Lord Megatron to stop. Soundwave could not think of a moment he had ever desired for his lord to stop. Lord Megatron had come to read him all too well.
Soundwave kept his fingers moving across the board, though he now paid little attention to his work. The majority of his focus was on the hand making a slow, aching journey across his armor, and the soft skritch of a sharp talon as it barely refrained from leaving scrapes in its wake.
Lord Megatron's low chuckle spilled into Soundwave's audials. A wash of vented heat teased the vulnerable gaps at his nape.
Soundwave did not stumble, though it was a near thing.
“Very well,” Lord Megatron said. “If you have no objections then I will continue with our usual terms.”
He waited for Soundwave to protest. They usually did not play in public. Not because it was disagreeable to them, but because a certain individual could be bothersome.
Starscream, however, was in his quarters, deep in recharge if the security system was to be believed. He would not be troubling them.
Protest was therefore furthest from Soundwave's mind.
And Megatron knew it.
He pressed against Soundwave's back, one knee nudging between Soundwave's thighs. Their height difference forced Soundwave to rise higher on his pedes, shifting his balance.
Megatron's right arm curled around him, hand flat on Soundwave's ventrum.
“Keep working,” Megatron murmured and his fingers tapped a discordant rhythm. “Be silent. And hold your charge until I see fit to give you release.”
Soundwave trembled at the commands. His hands moved but he kept tapping the wrong keys. It was a near-impossibility to concentrate. Too much charge hissed through his lines, drawn into being by anticipation alone.
Doubly so when Megatron circled his right port, tracing the delicate rim where his primary cables emerged. Charge crackled out to meet him. Soundwave's spark hummed with delight.
“Do not damage my ship,” Megatron growled, his denta nipping at his helm spar,
Soundwave's vision fizzled with static. His helm tipped back toward Megatron's mouth, despite his efforts to keep his optics on the screen. His hands were on the console, but his fingers didn't move. Not with the heavy warmth of Megatron pressed against his back and the steady, teasing scrape of Megatron's talons around his cable housing.
Megatron's other hand smoothed along Soundwave's left arm, a slide of metal on metal that excited sensor after sensor on his dermal plating.
Soundwave trembled.
“You are so obedient,” Megatron purred. His fingers stroked the nearest length of Soundwave's cable. “My most loyal soldier.”
Soundwave's vents blasted open. His balance wobbled. All work ceased. Every sense was devoted to Megatron.
“You are worth your weight in energon a thousand fold.”
Megatron's denta traced a searing path down Soundwave's helm spar. He pressed harder against Soundwave's back, until Soundwave could feel the heavy, powerful rumble of his flight-frame engine.
“There is no other of greater worth to me.”
Not even Starscream? Soundwave wondered, but it was there and gone again, too quick to truly take shape and lost to the fingers teasing at his hip. Talons slipped into a seam, tugging on a cable, and a sharp echo of pain-pleasure zinged through Soundwave's haptic net.
His visual feed went gray with static.
Soundwave sagged, weight partially resting on Megatron's knee. His leader's engine roared, the vibrations traveling straight to Soundwave's core.
“I can rely on you in all things,” Megatron said. “Are you listening? Are you waiting for permission?”
Soundwave could taste the desire and lust in Megatron, even stronger thanks to the press of their dermal plating. The approval and delight was equally tantalizing. Soundwave gloried in this power, given to him so eagerly.
Soundwave pushed his helm toward Lord Megatron. His cables trembled, threatening to spill overcharge into the console. But the order stood. He was not to damage the warship.
Soundwave could have shouted his need, begged for it, but Megatron didn't demand it of him. He never did. He always respected Soundwave's vow of silence.
Instead, his master's mouth pressed to the back of Soundwave's helm so that he felt each vocalization as a whisper against his haptic net.
“Such obedience must be rewarded.” Megatron's talon traced a line of fire down Soundwave's cable. It trembled, brightening with restless energy.
Soundwave waited, his frame poised on the edge. He waited, each scorching ventilation an agony. He waited, the withheld charge burning him from within.
“Now,” Megatron growled. “Overload.”
Soundwave shattered, frame seizing as the overload ripped through him. His visual feed went white. His fingers spasmed away from the console. Energy crackled free, erupting in a spill of blue fire. The release sent jagged lines of pleasure through every corner in his frame.
Megatron was there to catch him as his legs buckled. His field washed over Soundwave, alight with lust though he exhibited nothing but patience.
“Well done,” Megatron said. “But I believe it's time we retired to more private accommodations. Yes?”
Soundwave's answer was to disconnect himself from his console, the filaments of one cable briefly flirting with Megatron's fingers.
Megatron's approval poured over him like a hot oil bath and behind his visor, Soundwave smiled.
***
a/n: Still got more pieces to go, editing them around my work hours. They'll all be out by March 31st though, I promise. And yes, Flash Fiction Friday will be this Friday, the 20th. I had to postpone it because of work stuff but I'm good now.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Title: Words of Praise
Universe: Transformers: Prime Season Three
Characters: MegatronxSoundwave
Rating: R
Warnings: tactile, dom/sub overtones
Description: There was nothing more arousing than the sound of Megatron's approval.
Lord Megatron was feeling mischievous today. Soundwave sensed the edge of it as his lord paced back and forth behind him, always on the edge of Soundwave's visual feed and within range of his external sensory net.
It was late into the night shift with only Vehicons on the bridge for company. No Knock Out. No Starscream. No Shockwave. No predacon beast.
One might almost call it peaceful.
Lord Megatron prowled behind him with the stalking grace of a feline predator. His optics were pinned on the empty dock between Soundwave's shoulders, where Ravage had once been.
Soundwave, cabled to his console, knew what his lord wanted.
He ejected Laserbeak, sending the drone into the shadows of the ceiling. Watch and record. Lord Megatron enjoyed reliving the experience afterward. He would want to watch with Soundwave in his lap, open to his whims.
Now Lord Megatron slinked closer, his gaze searing heat into Soundwave's back.
One finger traced the furthest edge of a panel with a skreel of metal. Vehicons looked up but knew better than to comment. By the end, they would all be watching. Lord Megatron never minded their observation.
“Should I leave you be, Soundwave?” Lord Megatron purred, his lust pulsing against Soundwave's field, igniting a skip of heat.
“Or should I continue?” The pad of one finger stroked the Decepticon brand on Soundwave's elongated arm panel.
His armor plates shuffled in a telltale ripple of desire.
No. He did not wish for Lord Megatron to stop. Soundwave could not think of a moment he had ever desired for his lord to stop. Lord Megatron had come to read him all too well.
Soundwave kept his fingers moving across the board, though he now paid little attention to his work. The majority of his focus was on the hand making a slow, aching journey across his armor, and the soft skritch of a sharp talon as it barely refrained from leaving scrapes in its wake.
Lord Megatron's low chuckle spilled into Soundwave's audials. A wash of vented heat teased the vulnerable gaps at his nape.
Soundwave did not stumble, though it was a near thing.
“Very well,” Lord Megatron said. “If you have no objections then I will continue with our usual terms.”
He waited for Soundwave to protest. They usually did not play in public. Not because it was disagreeable to them, but because a certain individual could be bothersome.
Starscream, however, was in his quarters, deep in recharge if the security system was to be believed. He would not be troubling them.
Protest was therefore furthest from Soundwave's mind.
And Megatron knew it.
He pressed against Soundwave's back, one knee nudging between Soundwave's thighs. Their height difference forced Soundwave to rise higher on his pedes, shifting his balance.
Megatron's right arm curled around him, hand flat on Soundwave's ventrum.
“Keep working,” Megatron murmured and his fingers tapped a discordant rhythm. “Be silent. And hold your charge until I see fit to give you release.”
Soundwave trembled at the commands. His hands moved but he kept tapping the wrong keys. It was a near-impossibility to concentrate. Too much charge hissed through his lines, drawn into being by anticipation alone.
Doubly so when Megatron circled his right port, tracing the delicate rim where his primary cables emerged. Charge crackled out to meet him. Soundwave's spark hummed with delight.
“Do not damage my ship,” Megatron growled, his denta nipping at his helm spar,
Soundwave's vision fizzled with static. His helm tipped back toward Megatron's mouth, despite his efforts to keep his optics on the screen. His hands were on the console, but his fingers didn't move. Not with the heavy warmth of Megatron pressed against his back and the steady, teasing scrape of Megatron's talons around his cable housing.
Megatron's other hand smoothed along Soundwave's left arm, a slide of metal on metal that excited sensor after sensor on his dermal plating.
Soundwave trembled.
“You are so obedient,” Megatron purred. His fingers stroked the nearest length of Soundwave's cable. “My most loyal soldier.”
Soundwave's vents blasted open. His balance wobbled. All work ceased. Every sense was devoted to Megatron.
“You are worth your weight in energon a thousand fold.”
Megatron's denta traced a searing path down Soundwave's helm spar. He pressed harder against Soundwave's back, until Soundwave could feel the heavy, powerful rumble of his flight-frame engine.
“There is no other of greater worth to me.”
Not even Starscream? Soundwave wondered, but it was there and gone again, too quick to truly take shape and lost to the fingers teasing at his hip. Talons slipped into a seam, tugging on a cable, and a sharp echo of pain-pleasure zinged through Soundwave's haptic net.
His visual feed went gray with static.
Soundwave sagged, weight partially resting on Megatron's knee. His leader's engine roared, the vibrations traveling straight to Soundwave's core.
“I can rely on you in all things,” Megatron said. “Are you listening? Are you waiting for permission?”
Soundwave could taste the desire and lust in Megatron, even stronger thanks to the press of their dermal plating. The approval and delight was equally tantalizing. Soundwave gloried in this power, given to him so eagerly.
Soundwave pushed his helm toward Lord Megatron. His cables trembled, threatening to spill overcharge into the console. But the order stood. He was not to damage the warship.
Soundwave could have shouted his need, begged for it, but Megatron didn't demand it of him. He never did. He always respected Soundwave's vow of silence.
Instead, his master's mouth pressed to the back of Soundwave's helm so that he felt each vocalization as a whisper against his haptic net.
“Such obedience must be rewarded.” Megatron's talon traced a line of fire down Soundwave's cable. It trembled, brightening with restless energy.
Soundwave waited, his frame poised on the edge. He waited, each scorching ventilation an agony. He waited, the withheld charge burning him from within.
“Now,” Megatron growled. “Overload.”
Soundwave shattered, frame seizing as the overload ripped through him. His visual feed went white. His fingers spasmed away from the console. Energy crackled free, erupting in a spill of blue fire. The release sent jagged lines of pleasure through every corner in his frame.
Megatron was there to catch him as his legs buckled. His field washed over Soundwave, alight with lust though he exhibited nothing but patience.
“Well done,” Megatron said. “But I believe it's time we retired to more private accommodations. Yes?”
Soundwave's answer was to disconnect himself from his console, the filaments of one cable briefly flirting with Megatron's fingers.
Megatron's approval poured over him like a hot oil bath and behind his visor, Soundwave smiled.
a/n: Still got more pieces to go, editing them around my work hours. They'll all be out by March 31st though, I promise. And yes, Flash Fiction Friday will be this Friday, the 20th. I had to postpone it because of work stuff but I'm good now.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
