Hit the Wall

When Sam onlined, Megatron was carrying him under one arm. He tried an experimental wiggle, and the arm tightened uncomfortably.

"Be still," that deep voice rumbled.
Sam considered this for a moment, craned his head up, saw chains dangling from the wall they were headed toward, and started flailing for all he was worth. A blow stunned him, sending static fritzing across his optics, and before he could start struggling again the manacles were closing over his wrists. Those huge hands spread his legs, and each foot was set on some kind of platform and securely shackled.

Then Megatron turned and walked away, disappearing through the door at the other end of the room.

For a while, Sam vacillated between bouts of panic at being a prisoner, and being pissed off about being a prisoner. Then panic got boring and pissed off took over, and he spent a few hours debating over who was to blame for this. God got the final vote, just ahead of Optimus Prime and his dad, who'd bought him the Camaro and given him Crazy Archie Witwicky's frigging Allspark map.

Finally, bored drowned out both panic and pissed off. When Megatron came back, Sam was almost relieved. That lasted until he remembered that he was chained up and at the mercy of a being that liked to pull people in half. Megatron just stood there and stared at him, crimson optics locked on his own blue with an unwavering intensity, until Sam couldn't take it anymore.

"Well, aren't you going to torture me or something?" And that had to be the stupidest thing he had ever said.

Megatron's head tilted ever-so-slightly. "Very well." A hand reached for him, the tips of the claws gleaming in the light. "If that's what you wish."

Yeah, definitely the stupidest thing he'd ever said. Sam tensed as one of those claws trailed teasingly down his side, probing delicately into seams and crevices, plucking at a wire here and there, sending a jolt through his systems. He flinched with anticipation, waiting for the moment when Megatron would grow tired of playing and just start tearing parts off.

Now Megatron was using both hands, scratching over hidden circuits and causing sparks of sensation. It wasn't pain, exactly, but it made Sam squirm. He was starting to become unpleasantly warm.

"Turn on your cooling fans," Megatron said absently, nudging something just above his hip that made him spasm helplessly.

"Huh?"

"Cooling fans. You're overheating." Clawtips pulled out, tapping gently against his armor. "Or I could stop."

Sam searched his protocols for the right sequence. A little part of him was busy arguing that he was supposed to be happy that Megatron had offered to stop torturing him. He squashed it firmly.

Megatron's attention had shifted to his legs, causing more little shocks of not-pain to ripple through him. There was something almost familiar about this feeling. It wasn't like anything he'd felt as a mech, but-

Megatron's claws dragged slowly over the panel covering his crotch, and a sudden, delicious clenching knocked the memory loose. It was like the first time he'd ever touched himself, when he'd burrowed under his covers and every movement had made him gasp and bite his lip. That first orgasm had felt so good he thought he'd die.

"You're not torturing me," Sam blurted out, suddenly hyperaware of his body, of every place that Megatron had touched.

"Aren't I?" Megatron asked lazily, curling the tip of one claw under the panel. It snapped open and Sam choked as Megatron shifted forward between his spread legs and pressed against his exposed port, rocking ever-so-slightly. This was why the platforms under his feet, putting him at just the right height, Megatron had planned this-

Another slow grind against his port, and then Megatron pulled away. Sam arched, pulling against the manacles on his wrists. "Oh God," he gasped, "please," and there was a click and something pressed against his port, slid inside him and everything in his body lit up as Megatron settled against him again.

God, he could feel himself stretching down there, could feel every inch of the thickness inside him, and then Megatron withdrew slowly and pushed back in and Sam screamed, and it happened again and again.

He was being fucked. Megatron was fucking him, and every thrust forced a scream from him, sent electricity crackling through his body, building and building until his vision went white and there was nothing but the movement between his legs and the pleasure that ripped through him.

When Sam came to, Megatron was still inside him, optics intent on his face. Claws slid slowly over his body as a flex of the hips sent him spasming. "Again?"

"Yeah," Sam's mouth said before his brain could catch up, and Megatron smirked.