BDSM Done Right Fills Take 2
a/n: Herein lies more BDSM Prompt fills, some SFW, some very much not so.
For Anonymous
Prompt: Megatron/Optimus, painplay or bloodplay
Fandom: Transformers IDW/G1. Warnings: NSFW, Painplay, Genital Punishment, Sticky Sex
He didn’t know pain could feel like this. Bright and overwhelming, so hot that it was cold, so cold that it was hot. So sharp that it was dull. So enveloping that he felt swallowed in it.
Optimus writhed, testing the strength of his bonds, wrapped in Megatron’s field, but unable to see his lover over him. The inhibitor clamped to his temple blocked all visual input, which forced him to hear, to focus on feeling.
And feel he did.
His array was an inferno, fire licking upward and out. His spike was trapped behind his panel, thickening and pressing with insistence, but unable to shove through the lock placed over it. His valve was on display, aided by the multiple spreader bars, keeping him exposed, open, vulnerable to this sweet torment.
Megatron’s palm fell over him again, a sharp smack that jolted Optimus’ entire frame. His palm hit the swollen, hot pleats of Optimus’ rim. His fingers rang in a triple-tap over Optimus’ anterior node.
Optimus’ engine roared. He gnawed on the bit pressed between his denta, keeping him from biting his own glossa. A growl rose in his vocalizer, ripe with static. But not once did he reach for his internal comm. Not once did the word to cease cross his mind.
“More,” he begged, though it came out garbled.
“I know,” Megatron murmured, his words hitched, like his vents. His arousal was as strong, as thick as Optimus’. It wound in his field, pulsing in time to Optimus’ own. “Everything you want.”
Again.
Againagainagainagain.
Optimus jerked with every strike. Overload built within him, pleasure stacking in bright bursts through his sensory net. It hurt. By Primus, it burned like lightning through his circuits. His entire frame narrowed down to focus on his anterior node, on the sensitive dermal layer of his valve and rim.
Megatron’s strikes grew harder, faster. Lubricant splashed out on a particularly strong strike. Optimus tossed his helm back and keened.
He was going to be raw. He was going to be sore. He was going to ache for days. Every step he took would jar his tender components, reminding him of this moment.
He couldn’t wait. He craved it like nothing he’d ever needed before.
“More,” Optimus cried, words striped in static and unintelligible.
But Megatron understood. Megatron knew what he needed. His palm slammed down on Optimus’ valve again, the perfect angle, the perfect amount of force.
Optimus thrashed as overload tore through him so violently that he felt something within him fizzle out. He screamed soundlessly, convulsing in his bonds, pain a concept that had no definition anymore as his awareness soared into the atmosphere.
He didn’t intend to come down for hours.
For Gamercat
Prompt: First Aid/Ambulon, Non-Sexual, Aftercare
Fandom: Transformers MTMTE. Warnings: mostly SFW
“Easy.”
Ambulon rolled his optics. “Honestly, First Aid. I’m fine.”
First Aid tightened his hold around Ambulon’s waist, sensing the quiet thrum of the other medic’s fuel pump. “Then why are your legs wobbling?”
“You tell me.”
“I think you’re being contrary on purpose,” First Aid retorted, but he couldn’t’ help the fondness that gripped his spark. “So be careful. It’s slick.”
Ambulon scoffed, but his arm stayed over First Aid’s shoulder. Which made it easier for Aid to guide him into the oil bath. Something to ease the sting out of his plating and the ache in his cables.
He’d been bound for several hours after all, kept in stillness and silence under First Aid’s watchful visor.
Ambulon claimed it calmed him, helped to settle his spark. Given the current ease in his field, First Aid was inclined to believe him now.
Ambulon settled into the bath with a relieved sigh of his vents. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“My pleasure.” First Aid slid in beside him and leaned close to peer at Ambulon’s shoulder. “Any pain?”
Ambulon shuttered his optics. “None.”
“No pinched lines?”
“No.”
“Minor discomfort?”
Beneath the surface of the oil, Ambulon’s hand rested on First Aid’s nearest thigh panel. “I’m fine. I would tell you if I wasn’t.”
“Just checking to be sure.” First Aid settled next to him, counting the ticks of his fuel pump. “Hurting you isn’t part of the deal, remember?”
“I do.” Ambulon’s hand sought his and First Aid offered it, their fingers tangling together in the oil. “And I’m fine.”
“Good.” First Aid leaned his head on Ambulon’s shoulder, deciding to enjoy the bath for himself as well. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Ambulon squeezed his hand. “You are worthy of that trust.”
For Ladydragon76
Prompt: IDW Drift/Blurr, Sexual, Sticky/Sparks, Playtime
Fandom: Transformers IDW. Warnings: NSFW, sparkplay, sticky
Blurr gnawed on his bottom lip, drawing on every ounce of determination he possessed, despite how much his resolve crumbled around him.
Drift was doing outrageous things to his legs, to his thigh vents, and Blurr didn’t know how much longer he could take before he’d obey. Or at least, start begging.
“Are you sure you don’t want to open for me?” Drift cajoled, flashing him a fanged smirk before his fingers dipped into the slats again, teasing the sensitive honeycomb structures beneath.
Blurr’s backstrut arched, a hiss of pleasure escaping from his lips. “Not gonna,” he said, on the edge of an ex-vent.
Drift chuckled, ex-venting damp heat over Blurr’s closed panel. Teasing him yet again. He’d said Blurr couldn’t use either half of his array. That what he wanted was Blurr’s spark, not his spike or valve. But it was up to Blurr to offer it.
Feeling stubborn, Blurr stared back at him, determined to make Drift work for it.
“I can’t convince you?” Drift asked, or purred rather, as he licked at Blurr’s closed panels and then dragged his mouth upward, ex-venting heat over Blurr’s abdominal armor.
It rippled in anticipation. Pleasure followed in the wake of his mouth, Blurr’s frame rocking toward it. His spike throbbed and his valve swelled and he couldn’t release either of them!
His chestplates juddered.
Both of Drift’s hands were on his legs now. Fingers dipped into the wells of his vents, slat by slat. Drift’s lips left a trail of heat up the center of his windshield. His glossa flicked over the visible portion of Blurr’s chestplate seams, just above the top of his windshield.
“Are you sure?” Drift asked.
Blurr ground his denta. He tugged at his bonds, the ones wrapped around his wrists and his ankles, keeping him immobile, which was almost worse than the pleasure-teasing. He was a racer, he was designed to move!
Drift’s mouth came closer to his. Closer and closer and closer - and then he bypassed Blurr’s lips entirely to play loving attention to Blurr’s helm crest. Sensor-rich plating tingled after the warm, wet glossa wriggled over it.
Blurr moaned. His transformation joints trembled. His spark whirled, leaping forward, as though eager to see what pleasure Drift had to offer.
“Open for me,” Drift murmured, his lips doing erotic things to Blurr’s audial as his fingers walked patterns of pleasure on Blurr’s thighs.
Primus help him.
Blurr shivered as he let his chestplates open, slowly but surely baring his spark to his mate’s optics. So what if he didn’t have any patience.
So what?
a/n: Even more to come. I do believe I got over eighteen prompts. ^_^
Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated.
This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/323528.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.
For Anonymous
Prompt: Megatron/Optimus, painplay or bloodplay
Fandom: Transformers IDW/G1. Warnings: NSFW, Painplay, Genital Punishment, Sticky Sex
He didn’t know pain could feel like this. Bright and overwhelming, so hot that it was cold, so cold that it was hot. So sharp that it was dull. So enveloping that he felt swallowed in it.
Optimus writhed, testing the strength of his bonds, wrapped in Megatron’s field, but unable to see his lover over him. The inhibitor clamped to his temple blocked all visual input, which forced him to hear, to focus on feeling.
And feel he did.
His array was an inferno, fire licking upward and out. His spike was trapped behind his panel, thickening and pressing with insistence, but unable to shove through the lock placed over it. His valve was on display, aided by the multiple spreader bars, keeping him exposed, open, vulnerable to this sweet torment.
Megatron’s palm fell over him again, a sharp smack that jolted Optimus’ entire frame. His palm hit the swollen, hot pleats of Optimus’ rim. His fingers rang in a triple-tap over Optimus’ anterior node.
Optimus’ engine roared. He gnawed on the bit pressed between his denta, keeping him from biting his own glossa. A growl rose in his vocalizer, ripe with static. But not once did he reach for his internal comm. Not once did the word to cease cross his mind.
“More,” he begged, though it came out garbled.
“I know,” Megatron murmured, his words hitched, like his vents. His arousal was as strong, as thick as Optimus’. It wound in his field, pulsing in time to Optimus’ own. “Everything you want.”
Again.
Againagainagainagain.
Optimus jerked with every strike. Overload built within him, pleasure stacking in bright bursts through his sensory net. It hurt. By Primus, it burned like lightning through his circuits. His entire frame narrowed down to focus on his anterior node, on the sensitive dermal layer of his valve and rim.
Megatron’s strikes grew harder, faster. Lubricant splashed out on a particularly strong strike. Optimus tossed his helm back and keened.
He was going to be raw. He was going to be sore. He was going to ache for days. Every step he took would jar his tender components, reminding him of this moment.
He couldn’t wait. He craved it like nothing he’d ever needed before.
“More,” Optimus cried, words striped in static and unintelligible.
But Megatron understood. Megatron knew what he needed. His palm slammed down on Optimus’ valve again, the perfect angle, the perfect amount of force.
Optimus thrashed as overload tore through him so violently that he felt something within him fizzle out. He screamed soundlessly, convulsing in his bonds, pain a concept that had no definition anymore as his awareness soared into the atmosphere.
He didn’t intend to come down for hours.
For Gamercat
Prompt: First Aid/Ambulon, Non-Sexual, Aftercare
Fandom: Transformers MTMTE. Warnings: mostly SFW
“Easy.”
Ambulon rolled his optics. “Honestly, First Aid. I’m fine.”
First Aid tightened his hold around Ambulon’s waist, sensing the quiet thrum of the other medic’s fuel pump. “Then why are your legs wobbling?”
“You tell me.”
“I think you’re being contrary on purpose,” First Aid retorted, but he couldn’t’ help the fondness that gripped his spark. “So be careful. It’s slick.”
Ambulon scoffed, but his arm stayed over First Aid’s shoulder. Which made it easier for Aid to guide him into the oil bath. Something to ease the sting out of his plating and the ache in his cables.
He’d been bound for several hours after all, kept in stillness and silence under First Aid’s watchful visor.
Ambulon claimed it calmed him, helped to settle his spark. Given the current ease in his field, First Aid was inclined to believe him now.
Ambulon settled into the bath with a relieved sigh of his vents. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“My pleasure.” First Aid slid in beside him and leaned close to peer at Ambulon’s shoulder. “Any pain?”
Ambulon shuttered his optics. “None.”
“No pinched lines?”
“No.”
“Minor discomfort?”
Beneath the surface of the oil, Ambulon’s hand rested on First Aid’s nearest thigh panel. “I’m fine. I would tell you if I wasn’t.”
“Just checking to be sure.” First Aid settled next to him, counting the ticks of his fuel pump. “Hurting you isn’t part of the deal, remember?”
“I do.” Ambulon’s hand sought his and First Aid offered it, their fingers tangling together in the oil. “And I’m fine.”
“Good.” First Aid leaned his head on Ambulon’s shoulder, deciding to enjoy the bath for himself as well. “Thank you for trusting me.”
Ambulon squeezed his hand. “You are worthy of that trust.”
For Ladydragon76
Prompt: IDW Drift/Blurr, Sexual, Sticky/Sparks, Playtime
Fandom: Transformers IDW. Warnings: NSFW, sparkplay, sticky
Blurr gnawed on his bottom lip, drawing on every ounce of determination he possessed, despite how much his resolve crumbled around him.
Drift was doing outrageous things to his legs, to his thigh vents, and Blurr didn’t know how much longer he could take before he’d obey. Or at least, start begging.
“Are you sure you don’t want to open for me?” Drift cajoled, flashing him a fanged smirk before his fingers dipped into the slats again, teasing the sensitive honeycomb structures beneath.
Blurr’s backstrut arched, a hiss of pleasure escaping from his lips. “Not gonna,” he said, on the edge of an ex-vent.
Drift chuckled, ex-venting damp heat over Blurr’s closed panel. Teasing him yet again. He’d said Blurr couldn’t use either half of his array. That what he wanted was Blurr’s spark, not his spike or valve. But it was up to Blurr to offer it.
Feeling stubborn, Blurr stared back at him, determined to make Drift work for it.
“I can’t convince you?” Drift asked, or purred rather, as he licked at Blurr’s closed panels and then dragged his mouth upward, ex-venting heat over Blurr’s abdominal armor.
It rippled in anticipation. Pleasure followed in the wake of his mouth, Blurr’s frame rocking toward it. His spike throbbed and his valve swelled and he couldn’t release either of them!
His chestplates juddered.
Both of Drift’s hands were on his legs now. Fingers dipped into the wells of his vents, slat by slat. Drift’s lips left a trail of heat up the center of his windshield. His glossa flicked over the visible portion of Blurr’s chestplate seams, just above the top of his windshield.
“Are you sure?” Drift asked.
Blurr ground his denta. He tugged at his bonds, the ones wrapped around his wrists and his ankles, keeping him immobile, which was almost worse than the pleasure-teasing. He was a racer, he was designed to move!
Drift’s mouth came closer to his. Closer and closer and closer - and then he bypassed Blurr’s lips entirely to play loving attention to Blurr’s helm crest. Sensor-rich plating tingled after the warm, wet glossa wriggled over it.
Blurr moaned. His transformation joints trembled. His spark whirled, leaping forward, as though eager to see what pleasure Drift had to offer.
“Open for me,” Drift murmured, his lips doing erotic things to Blurr’s audial as his fingers walked patterns of pleasure on Blurr’s thighs.
Primus help him.
Blurr shivered as he let his chestplates open, slowly but surely baring his spark to his mate’s optics. So what if he didn’t have any patience.
So what?
a/n: Even more to come. I do believe I got over eighteen prompts. ^_^
Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated.
This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/323528.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.