Master

Note: Yes, I deliberately made Scorponok an 'it' both because of how Blackout views it and to give Scorponok, a drone, the neuter gender.

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Blackout took a certain vicious pleasure in controlling and dominating everything around him. His drone Scorponok was no different. The scorpion actually carried Blackout’s personal brand with a mark of simplistic pride. The chopper didn’t know just how much his pet understood but Scorponok did seem to take a certain animalistic pleasure in it’s Master’s attentions.

Only in private of course…

Blackout would never allow such weakness to be shown or paraded about in front of his fellow Decepticon’s. No, his ownership and dominating of Scorponok took place deep in secrets of his trans-scanned cargo-hold or in the hideout they’d lately commandeered.

It was on nights like this that the two Decepticon's indulged their primitive and amoral perversions. Blackout held down Scorponok as the smaller Decepticon struggled weakly. The black arachnid-type always got a little panicky and wild whenever Blackout handled it’s spark chamber. It was because of Scorponok’s hesitance that Blackout did it.

Anything to force his will and supremacy onto another Decepticon. Especially his pet.

“Stop struggling.” Blackout hissed. The dangerous snarl in his tone seemed to reach down deep into Scorponok’s primitive mind and the drone stopped struggling. It shuddered and clicked it’s mandibles unhappily but rolled over obediently as Blackout indicated that it should.

“Open yourself to me.” The directive was calmer now but not less sinister.

The layers of armored plating slowly melted back as Scorponok opened the chamber that held it’s spark. The black drone’s tail swayed and curled apprehensively but it’s Master did not seem to notice or care. There was enough cybervenom in the poisoned tail to even paralyze a large mech like Blackout. Scorponok was not stupid enough to attempt something like that.

The drone clicked it's claws nervously; the chiming of metal sibilant in the cold desert night.

It could not live without it’s Master and if Scorponok dared to harm Blackout, it’s Master would rip his drone slowly to pieces. He’d done it to every other drone he controlled. Scorponok had seen three other drone types like itself be slowly and meticulously taken apart for such temerity and was not stupid enough to repeat that kind of mistake.

No, Scorponok was primitive compared to other Decepticons but it was not stupid.

Blackout smiled nastily and traced his fingers along Scorponok’s spark casing. “Good…just…like…that.” Blackout hissed and raked his short claws across the metal in front of him.

Scorponok uttered a loud, pained cry. Unable to form words of protest, all it could do was scream and shudder beneath it’s Master’s ministrations.

That was what Blackout wanted. His red optics burned with a malicious sort of pleasure and fanged teeth were revealed in his evil smile. “Good.” He praised in a backhanded sort of way and continued to scratch his mark upon Scorponok’s spark chamber. Metal screethed and peeled stubbornly beneath the cruel pressure until neat gouges were furrowed into the metal of Scorponok's spark chamber

The brand would heal itself within a matter of days and this was a process Blackout repeated with much relish. Because every time Scorponok’s internal repair systems healed the wounds he inflicted, Blackout just went back and did it again.

For the rest of it’s days, Scorponok would wear the mark of it’s Master on it’s spark chamber and the brand was cradled there with a simple sort of pride by the drone. Because Master was happy when he hurt it and Scorponok was happy when Master was pleased.