chapter four

[girloz14]

Typewith: http://typewith.me/clothingismodest



He looks in the mirror, adjusting the ribbons that were replacing the chains for the sol. "Do I really have to wear this?" He has a stupid amount of paint on him, and it isn't even edible.

Powerhug looks at him flatly, "Be glad it is only that. If your creators hadn't informed Optimus's to step down, you would have even worse things. Be glad that they agreed to let you leave the chains in your subspace."

Oil Slick shudders, Powerdrive and Steelbolt had wanted to remove them entirely, and not allow him to be tied up for this. The only reason that they would be was because Optimus blushed and mumbled about wanting them. "I could have put bows on each link. I have bows on each link right now, even."

The ninjabot scoffs, "We aren't going to let you wear energon candy bows on your chains to your bonding. You'll just have to do what you planned and have Optimus eat them off as you're tied down."

Oil Slick fusses with the ribbons again, trying to get them to look less awful and flowery and femme-like. He may be a demure, submissive femme-frame, but this mass of ribbon and lace is just ridiculous. It's like Optimus's creators want to pretend that there's no chain-loving mech underneath the foofy bows.

He glances back over his shoulder. "Is the bow on my aft really necessary?"

Powerhug smirks, "Of course it is. You want Prince Optimus to unwrap you like a present, don't you? The more you have to take off, the better."

He twitches his claws, "I want them off, though. Why couldn't we have the chains?"

Powerhug gives him a flat look, "You know why." And he really does, since Optimus's creators really don't think chains are a proper thing for a princess to want to have, and would have happily never exposed Optimus to them if Oil Slick hadn't given him the datapad. "You're almost ready. Do you have everything?"

He looks at all the traditional bonding wear, having both the mech and femme things, and nods cautiously, "I think so. Anything you think I'm missing?"

"A kiss for good luck?" Powerhug leans in and brushes a quick, mostly chaste kiss against his mouth. "Remember that if you find your bonding . . . lacking; if it leaves your spark cold, the ninjabots will help you. You know how to contact us."

Oil Slick waves a servo at him, "Yes, yes, I know. I'm not going into a loveless bond. I like Optimus. We're friends, and he's willing to experiment with chains with me. I won't need your help, but I appreciate it."

Powerhug smirks, "Even with your in-laws hovering over you?"

He puts his servos on his hips, "They like me, and I like them. There's only the argument about what I like in the berth, which really isn't anything they should be complaining about."

Well, it is if he gets to do what he's planning, but he'll live for not. He can encourage Optimus to go on a castle wide chase after a few vorns and end with him having his spark riden in a semi-public area. He'd like it to be in the throne room, but that's just begging to be caught and punished. They will not be ruling for awhile, and doing something like that just shows irresponsibility.

Oil Slick vents, and adjusts his bows a final time. "Can I go out yet? I'm thoroughly bored with waiting." He's going to do something stupid if he has to wait much longer, honestly. Like find Optimus and elope with him, so he doesn't have to go through the stupid public bonding ceremony where they get their servos tied together with ribbons and then paint their fingers with bonding marks. With the ancient, extremely permanent bonding paint of the royal families.

Powerhug looks at him, holding him at arm's length to study him proudly, "You look wonderful, Oil Slick. Your creators are waiting just outside, and will walk you down. You know how to-"

He makes a face, "Yes, yes. I do. We had the stupid rehearsal, and I know how to do all of this." He crosses his arms, "I just want to go be with Optimus as soon as possible and don't want to deal with all of ... this," he waves a servo to illustrate his point about the bonding.

He's tapped on the nose, "You're uniting your planets, sparkling. That's why. You're going to be queen, just like your sister. Only you get a mech with you."

Other bots might have complained about not wanting to be a ruler, but Oil Slick had known since he was a sparkling that he would be a queen, or he would end up in disgrace as some minor noble's third consort. He'd rather be a queen.

"Fantastic. I'd like to start now, if you don't mind." Oil Slick taps his ped on the floor. "I don't understand why his creators are stalling. I heard the bells from my creators already." As soon as Optimus's slagging creators signal their approval of the bond with their bonding bells, he'll be able to go out and finish this fragging thing.

Powerhug pushes him to the door, "Maybe they're having trouble taking his weaponry. The bot is very paranoid about these things. He took my advice on how to hide weaponry to spark. I wouldn't be surprised if he had several in his armor next to his protoform."

Oil Slick sighs softly, he may have had to clear out his weaponry but he had enough sense to take most of it out before even stepping into the bonding building."I bet they take his emergency knife." That is hidden in the emergency ration energon cube, and Oil Slick normally had one as well, but it was not allowed for this sort of thing. Being free of all trappings and things, and all that.

It's bad luck to go to a bonding with anything in your subspace. He's already pushing it just taking a bit of chain for the bonding night after. If Optimus's creators had just slagging been willing to let them have some in the room, it wouldn't have been a problem.

But Oil Slick doesn't believe in that superstitious nonsense at all. He'll go with a chain, and Optimus will no doubt have a few crystal weapons hidden under his armor. He's learned how to hide them against his circuitry so they are nearly invisible.

His spark pulses happily at the thought of Optimus chaining him down and them finally finding out how good 'facing is. He manages to keep from rubbing his chest, but it is a close thing. He walks to the door, stepping out and into his creators's arms. They pat him along the sides, and reach into his subspace, pulling out the chain. Glitterfrost gives him an irritated look, "You're not supposed to have this."

He pushes it back in, being careful not to destroy any of the candy bows, "Powerhug let me. I want my first 'face to be wonderful, and Optimus promised to chain me down. His creators refusing to put chains in the room means that I have to keep it."

"No. It means that you are supposed to respect their culture and keep the chains out of the berthroom," Wildstar corrects him, and then rubs his head playfully. "But go ahead and take them if you want. Just promise me that you'll try to be a proper 'femme' some time and tie him up."

Oil Slick tries to dodge her servos, which are scuffing his careful layers of polish, "Mama! You are ruining all the work that went into this," he waves his arms to show off some of the lavish paint detailing on him. It was meant to prove that a couple had interfaced thoroughly, because the different paint colors he and Optimus would wear would intermix.

She scoffs, "I'm just touching your head, sparkling." She fluffs all the bows on his frame, "You have the text file for all the words you need to say?"

"Yes, mama," he mutters, "I wouldn't forget it since you've sent me a copy every few cycles." Even if he deleted all of them right now, he knows she'd just send him the file again if he sent her a message to.

Glitterfrost presses a kiss to his forehead, "You behave during this. No hiding behind Optimus or us when we go walking down the aisle with you. I know you were fine when we practiced, but not all the bots were watching you and we didn't have all the camerabots."

He hates camerabots and being by too many people. They make him nervous and he shies away from attention like that.

"Yes, mamas," he says dutifully, and waits for them to guide him into the bonding chapel. It's a deceptive sort of name, because it's a huge, open-air place, with towering spires of crystal and seating for thousands of bots. Only those considered important enough to rate such an auspicious placement in their bonding ceremony. "I will be a good femme and stay between you. I won't shame you, or Optimus."

They take his servos, one on each side, and start to walk, "We're proud of you, Oil Slick."

He isn't sure why they're saying that. Maybe because he didn't go through with his threat to seduce Optimus into his berth the previous sol. He knows it isn't because he's getting bonded. It wasn't even his idea in the first place. Not that he minds too much. He likes Optimus, and Optimus likes him. He's sure they'll grow to love each other romantically like their creators did.

He is looking forward to having his spark used by Optimus. He knows how pretty Optimus's spark is, and the truckbot has the code to get his plates open. He'd been self-servicing a lot, so his plates are locked down tight and it will take a master hacker to open them currently. Give him enough time, and he'll get them open himself, but he won't need to soon, not with how the crystal mech can just shove him on the berth and force him open.

He dims his optics and revs softly at the thought.

"It's good that you're eager for this, sparkling," Mama Wildstar says, squeezing his servo. "We know you didn't get much choice in who you bonded with. I think you'll find that after you bond, the coding that the medics put on you will slowly fade over time. Within a vorn, you won't need to code your plates open any longer."

How convenient. Only a vorn of having to be hacked to self-service or pleasure his bondmate. "Wonderful."

There's the sound of chiming, and Oil Slick relaxes a tiny bit; Optimus is finally ready according to his creators's expectations. He hopes the truckbot possibly managed to hide a pair of cuffs. He woudln't mind playing a game after they 'face once or twice. The escaping princess and her overeager prince. Something easy to encourage Optimus to be more adventurous.

He is lead to the chapel, and his optics widen in distress. He wants to leave right away; there are far too many bots here and it terrifies him. He's had times in the throne room where several bots looked at him, but this is the first time everyone in a area had their attention focused on him. He wants to go hide.

But he doesn't. His creators squeeze his servos to reassure him, and walk him down the long, long aisle towards the altar where the temple mech is waiting. He can see Optimus off to the side, walking down the aisle parallel to his own, separated by an endless sea of mechs and femmes polished to glittering perfection.

He only has optics for Optimus, who is not dressed in ridiculous ribbons and lace that covers his hip panels. Optimus is beautiful, coated in some substance that makes his crystal armor look even more transparent than usual.

He is let go from his creators, and he takes the last few steps closer to Optimus. His optics dim, and he he takes the truckbot's servo in his own. He wants to kiss Optimus right now, nuzzle against him and get shoved into the berth. He's been looking forward to this, and now it is time to go through the ceremony that will take so much more time than he wants. If they had just bonded in the usual way, he'd already be in a berth and have his spark ridden.

He accepts that this has to happen, since Powerdrive and Steelbolt are so insistent on tradiition. He isn't sure if he likes it himself, but he'll accept it as long as he knows this wait will end. He just wishes he could nuzzle Optimus like he's used to, and not have to deal with all of this.

They kneel in front of the altar and the templebot, who smiles benignly at them. "Welcome, Princess Oil Slick, Prince Optimus, and all those bots who have come to witness their bonding." The mech sweeps a servo over the crowd. "Bonding is a sacred act, meant to tie bots and communities together for all time. This sol we come together to observe a paint bonding, with the sacred paints of the royal family."

A large pot of paint is brought forward by another temple bot, and placed on the floor in front of them. It is very special, very ancient paint which adheres permanently to whatever it is painted on. It changes a bot at the level of code, preventing the paint from ever being removed.

The only way for a painted bot to remove a bond mark is to permanently accept the loss of whatever servo it was painted on, because the loss of a single finger or claw will simply encourage the paint coding to shift to the next one.

He hopes that he doesn't mess up the painting of this. He practiced and practiced on a false servo to make sure that his nervousness wouldn't ruin it, but he wasn't expecting so many bots watching them do this. He wants Optimus's painted band to be perfect. The crystal mech already looks wonderful, and he doesn't want to mar it with his clumsy mis-steps.

He wishes he has his chains on him, then he'd feel calmer and safer. He knows he can't play with them, though, so he forces himself to focus on Optimus. He looks in his truckbot's optics and sends a tiny text of, Want me to try anything special with the paint on you?

He gets a tiny shake of the head and a small reply, I'm fine. Do you want me to try to put a chain for your's?

His optics flicker at that, and his venting turns slightly ragged. He would love for Optimus to do that. The bot must have been practicing so much harder than he has to be able to do it. He really wishes he could kiss Optimus right this instant. He nods once, Please?

Okay, I'll do that the- the text file cuts off midword, and Oil Slick turns his head back tot he templebot, who has flicked a switch on a tiny box. "No bot may communicate in secret during a bonding, and the sacred artefact will guarantee a bonding free of hidden gossip." He gives them a look that says he knows exactly what they were doing.

He looks down, much more nervous now that he doesn't have Optimus's reassuring text in his processor. He may be next to the bot, but it isn't really the same. He is glad the truckbot puts off so much warmth,so he can focus on that instead of dealing with all the nonsense that the templebot is saying. He pays half attention to the long lecture that is being said, saying what he needs to when it comes up, and mostly wishing he could just get out of here.

He's glad that it is traditional for the newly bonded to just leave right after and let the creators deal with the aftermath. He isn't sure he'd be able to not hide away like he'd been taught by Powerhug. A princess isn't really supposed to hide in the ceiling, but he is kinda good at doing that. The hard part would be taking Optimus with him.

Finally, they get to the good part. The priest takes a length of deep red ribbon and tied two of their servos together-the ones they indicated to him beforehand that they would be painting for the bond marks. "Now take the sacred paint and mark your bondmate," the temple bot orders, and Oil Slick reaches for the pot.

Only for it to be knocked to the floor by a sudden ground-shaking explosion.

Oil Slick jerks back, and the fragile ribbon holding their servos together snaps. He stares at it with dismay, and then looks up. Straight up.

Lord Megatron of New Kaon descends into the room, landing in front of the pair of them, and the guests curse and reach for weapons they do not have as the bot scoops Oil Slick up. "My Princess, I have come to rescue you from this sham of a bond." Oil Slick opens his mouth to protest, not even thinking of fighting such a ridiculous claim yet, and finds his mouth claimed in a kiss, glossa sweeping in to silence him.

He makes a muffled shriek, trying to yank away, and claws at Megatron's armor. He does not want to deal with this slag right not. He was going to have a little painted chain on his claw, and he was looking forward to that. He doesn't want Megatron declaring he doesn't want to bond with Optimus. He is perfectly fine with bonding with Optimus. Optimus is his best friend, and he'd much rather not have Megatron yank him away from this.

The mech takes to the air before he can say any of this, though.

He's carried into a waiting ship, and has a mouthclamp put on so he can't scream, and he hates it. he doesn't want to be gagged, and was only going to try that with Optimus. Just having it done to him is humiliating and terrible. He just wants to go back to what he was doing without Megatron interrupting it.

His servo is studied carefully, and then Megatron smiles, "Good. You have not been claimed yet. I assume you have been a good femme and kept your spark pure as well?" Fingers slide over his sparkplates, and he makes indignant, outraged noises behind his gag. Megatron smiled brighter, "I will take that as a yes, my sweet little femme. I was worried that your suitor would have taken advantage of your spark by now, but this means it is all mine to claim." Megatron purrs in his audio, "I have chains and cuffs designed specifically for your frame, my femme. I believe we should retire to my berthroom."

He squirms angrily, and tries to yank away, only to be held a little closer. Megatron starts to walk, and Blitzwing falls in step next to them. The triple-changer flips back and forth between Hothead and Icy as he gives the bot the most pleading optics to free him, and finally settles on Icy looking very upset, "My lord, she should not be taken from her bonding."

Megatron tisks softly, rubbing Oil Slick's chestplates as he talks, "She would not be happy with such an Autobot aligned neutral, Blitzwing. A proper Decepticon knows how to take care of what she wants. She'll love being kept on the berth to be used, or kept in my lap as I overload her on the throne. After I bond with her later, I may allow you to 'face her as well. She does like you quite a bit. How many times have we caught her sneaking into your room as we visited?"

"Zat does not matter, my liege," even though he had snuck in every time they had visited. Blitzwing looks extremely distressed, "To kidnap a femme from her bonding ceremony is-"

"Entirely legal," Megatron hums, rubbing harder on Oil Slick's sparkplates, as if trying to coax them open. It's not his fault that his spark heated up a little when Megatron said what he was planning on doing with him. "I took a submissive femme after the ribbon was tied, and the femme broke the ribbon by herself. A bot is allowed to . . . save a femme from a clearly unwanted bond. If they choose to go to war over this, they will be the aggressors." He dims his optics and rubs Oil Slick's cheek. "You will be happier with me, Princess." A laugh, "And if you truly love the crystal mech, as unlikely as that may be, well . . if he comes after you, I have no qualms with claiming him as a trophy of war and adding him to our berth."

"I was going to say reprehensible, my lord." Blitzwing looks disgusted, "She only cut ze ribbon because she has ze sharpest claws zat I have ever seen on a femme, and because you startled her. I do not like zis."

Megatron brings Oil Slick up, and licks his plates, "She is hot and wanting, Blitzwing. You are welcome to your anger, but it will not stop me from doing what I want to do." Large fingers squeeze his aft possessively, "She is beautiful as she squirms, and will only be more so when I put her on the berth. Guard the door, and be silent."

Blitzwing flips to Hothead, but does as he's told, just outside of the door of the room Megatron carries him into.

It can only be the room Megatron uses on the ship. Not terribly large, since they need to conserve some space on such a limited place, but about as lavish as you can get in a ship. He imagines there is a solvent pool in the washrack, and he is likely going to be put in it as his spark is used.

He's placed on a large, sinfully comfortably berth, and his servos are chained above his head, peds restrained with more chains, to little hooks that flip up out of the berth to compensate for the fact that he is too small to use the lower end of the berth to tie the chains to. "Are you comfortable, my sweet little femme?" Megatron asks kindly, adjusting the chains with an expert touch, until they are perfect on him, making his spark pulse with an almost processor-numbing heat.

Damn Megatron to the pit for being so good at this.

He makes inarticulate noises, and Megatron gently removes the gag. "If you insult me too much, I will put this back on you, sweet femme. I do wish to hear you cry out in pleasure as I use you, so I am trusting that you will be a good femme and stay polite." He caresses Oil Slick's frame. "You are gorgeous."

He squirms both in pleasure and unhappiness, damn his spark for loving to be forced like this, "Stop calling me your femme!" He is in the wrong position to escape, and he is not happy about that. He twitches his toes, "I'm not your sweet anything."

Megatron's optics dim, and the bot sits on the berth next to him, "You will be soon, sweetspark." Large fingers play with his ram, "If I was not so eager to touch you, I'd just leave you here until you're hot and wanting all on your own. Possibly add just a few more chains, and walk away to go find something else to do."

His engine revs at that, and he keeps from making a soft and wanting moan. "Return me to the bonding chapel at once."

"No, no, little femme. You are mine now." He pauses, and then adds softly, "For the next vorn at least. It is tradition to begin all bonds on New Kaon with temporary paint. At the end of the vorn, if you are not happy being mine, I will allow you to leave." Megatron dims his optics and rubs at the seams of his hips, "I can guarantee you will love being mine. You will wonder how you ever lived without having me use your spark like my personal toy." He rubs at Oil Slick's plates again, "I wonder how long it will take to train you to take an overload inhibitor."

He squirms at that, spark cooling a bit at the mention of it. Inhibitors are dangerous, and he has no interest in being melted. He may like being tied up, but that doesn't mean he wants to be hurt. "No." He doesn't want this, even if his spark tells him that it is fantastic to be on the berth to be used and touched. "I want to go back now."

Megatron's optics dim and the bot licks him on the chest, just around the edges of his sparkplates. "You are very hot for me, my princess. I will let you go after the vorn of our bonding is up, but not now." The bot's fingers play with his hip panels, "Open for me. I want to taste your spark, and I know it will be delicious and sweet."

"Never," he hisses, because he knows he cannot betray Optimus this way. Knows that he cannot show Megatron that he is not a femme. The bot won't take it well, he already knows it, and he locks his plates even tighter, letting the code have more control than usual.

Megatron smiles, "Oh, you want to play it like that? I have no trouble 'forcing' you open, sweetspark." His fingers press hard on his sparkplate seams, trying to pry him open.

He smirks when it doesn't work, "Not going to happen."

Megatron's fingers slip, unable to get a good grip because of the coding's special properties to keep his plates in place. The mech hums softly, "So you want to me to cut you open?"

His optics widen, "What? No." He squirms unhappily, "I don't want you to-"

The bot pulls out a energyblade, and presses it to his seams, "No need to play games, sweetspark. All you had to do is tell me."

He tries to kick his legs, but is thoroughly stuck, "I don't want to get hurt!" That is not his kink at all. He is all for being tied down and controlled, but having bits of him cut apart is never anything he wants at all. Besides, as the blade just proves by skipping the top of the seams and breaking into several pieces, cutting is useless. They did that to keep him from trying to cut the locks himself.

Megatron narrows his optics. "Barbaric. Your creators put ancient locks on your plates?" He slides his servos over the plates, "I suppose they must have put the code in you as well, to keep you chaste. How distasteful." He leans down and claims Oil Slick's mouth in a kiss, glossa tangling with his, making his spark pulse with want. When he breaks the kiss, Megatron's optics are dim, and Oil Slick is venting desperately. "No worries, sweetspark. My head of the Intelligence office will have no problem hacking you open. He is very skilled at it."

He can hack it himself, but he's not saying that at all. He doesn't want Megatron to ruin his bonding to Optimus. Their alliance to Oddessyx is vital, and he wants to be bonded to a bot that he can actually stand. Megatron may hit every single one of his kinks, but does not listen when he says no. Optimus will stop and ask what is wrong. The truckbot was always so thoughtful and caring during the practice sessions that Powerhug supervised. He loved having Optimus push him down firmly into the pile of metal mesh and holding him down.

Megatron strokes his frame, "You must be low on fuel by now. I know it is traditional to abstain from it on the morning of your bonding ceremony." He picks up a cube from the table and holds it to Oil Slick's mouth. "Allow me to sate your hunger."

He tips the cube up, and Oil Slick's only choices are drinking it-which his systems all clamour at him to do-or let it spill in a sticky mess that will encourage Megatron to lick him clean. He swallows it, mindful of the fact that it may be drugged or laced with aphrodisiacs.

When he finishes, Megatron kisses him again, licking his lips to get the tiny bit that was spilled, "I am going to go talk to several bots for awhile. You already have my com, so you are welcome to send a message for me, and I will return." The mech's servo caresses his chest, "Maybe I will be back instantly, or I may take even longer. Just be patient and do not worry." His sparkplates are licked, glossa lathing all over them, "Would you like me to order Blitzwing to self service for you?"

His spark pulses painfully hot, and Megatron chuckles. Oil Slick flushes, "No. I don't want that."

"Liar," Megatron murmurs against his armor, kissing it gently before withdrawing. "But I will not force that on you. He will remain outside the door. If you need more fuel, just call for him, and he will help you fuel." Megatron kisses him demandingly, only stopping when Oil Slick is whining with want, trying to arch up for more touch. "I will be back, my sweet little femme."

Oil Slick slumps on the berth, watching him go. He shivers, overheated frame making the warm air in the room feel much cooler than it was.

He sits there for a long moment, and starts to work his way through the various ways to contact his creators. There's something blocking him, and he wonders if Megatron put something on the chains to stop all communications aside from him. He tries with different bots, but fails every single time. Even one to Blitzwing, just to see if he didn't have to yell for help.

He slumps in the chains, wishing his spark would stop singing praises about how wonderful it is to be like this. He knows it is fantastic, he just wishes it was Optimus, and he had finished his bonding.

After awhile, he sighs softly and calls out, "Blitzwing?"

There's a soft sound of a door opening, and the triple-changer is flipping from Hothead to Icy, "Yes, princess?"

He squirms, "Will you come here?"

"Yes, princess," Icy says, approaching her very slowly. "Are you damaged? My lord does not usually . . . finish so quickly. He must have been very rough with you." He glances at Oil Slick's frame, and then frowns, "But . . you do not appear to be damaged."

"He did not take me," Oil Slick admits. "I have sparkplate locks and code to keep from opening, or being forced open." He looks away, "He says he will have me hacked when we arrive on New Kaon." He turns back, giving the bot wide, pleading optics, "Please, you must help me, Sir Blitzwing."

Icy looks reluctant as he says, "I... I can not, princess. I am a good knight, and must follow my orders. I am to guard you and keep you safe."

He squirms, widening his optics even more, making the green of them more hurt and pleading, "Allowing me to be hacked is not keeping me safe, Sir Blitzwing."

The bot moves uncomfortably, "Zat is not ze safety zat I am supposed to guard, Princess Oil Zlick. I am to make sure zat none of ze ozer Decepticons get into ze room and to keep you fueled." The bot looks away, "I am to self service for you, if you demand it, as well. I... I know zat you want to be wiz your Prince Optimus, so I had no problem agreeing wiz zat order when Lord Megatron demanded it of me. Especially since it was ze order zat allowed me to keep ze ozer Decepticons from touching your frame."

"I appreciate that you want to protect me from sparkrape from other bots, but . . . you would allow it from your leader?" Oil Slick shifts unhappily in the chains, trying to find enough slack to undo them, and failing. Megatron knows how to chain a bot properly. He knows Oil Slick was ninjabot trained in bondage.

Blitzwing looks away from him, "Zat is what I must do as a loyal knight, meine . . . Princess Oil Zlick. It will not be so bad, bonding wiz him. Megatron is very nice in ze berz, and he will make sure you are satisfied and happy."

He shifts unhappily, "I don't want to be with him, Blitzwing. Take me back and let me bond with Optimus." He twitches his claws, "Megatron does not stop when I tell him no. He insists that I will enjoy it, and seems to think that my insistence that I do not want this is just a game."

Blitzwing flips to Hothead, "He is not listening to you when you are refusing? Zis is-" the mech seems to force himself to calm down flipping almost painfully back to Icy, "somezing zat I can not control, Princess Oil Zlick. Even zough I would like to take you back, I can not."

He whimpers unhappily, "Please, Sir Blitzwing? Please?"

When the bot only turns his back on Oil Slick, the cyclebot whines softly. His favorite knight was refusing to help him.

Logicaly, he knew it was not possible. There were likely other mechs on the ship willing to offline the bot if he tried to take Oil Slick back. Megatron's soldiers were fanatical in their loyalty to him, after all. "May I have more energon?" he asks quietly, giving up on trying for freedom just yet.

Blitzwing relaxes just slightly, moving to sit on the berth next to him, and picking up a cube from the side table, "Yes, princess. I am sorry zat I can not do more for you. I know zat none of zis is drugged, so you need not worry about zat."

He moves his head, "Could you loosen the restraints?"

Blitzwing glances at the chains, and shakes his head, "Nein, princess, you are not hurt, and if I loosen zem, you will escape. Megatron will know instantly who did it."

He drinks from the cube pressed to his mouth, pulling away after a little bit, "What if they're hurting me?"

Blitzwing looks pained, "Zen I am to get ze medic to look after you. I am not to touch you at all."

"I hate Megatron," Oil Slick says flatly. "I want you to help me escape him, before he takes my virginity." Before he renders any chance to bond with Optimus null and void. Optimus's creators will never allow him to bond with a bot that has been 'sullied' by the spark of another. Not unless that bot was Allspark-blessed, and Oil Slick clearly was not.

"Be zat as it may, you are his now," Blitzwing places the cube on the table. "You should learn to be happy wiz him, Princess."

This forced bonding that will be happening won't even have the benefit of an alliance with the Decepticons. It will just force Haydon IV into a fight they have no hope of winning, or a cut of losses. As much as it hurts him, he hopes that Optimus isn't forced into fighting to try to save him. He doesn't want his best friend caught and forced into being confined to a berth. Optimus isn't made for that life, and will be a wonderful leader.

He looks away from Blitzwing, "I do not know if I can." Not when Megatron keeps ignoring how he says no. He wonders if the grey mech has another lover that likes to be ignored when they refuse. He knows that some bots do, but he doesn't want some odd safeword when saying he doesn't want it is all he needs. He knows that if he likes it, he won't tell a bot to stop. Or if he's saying no and doesn't mean it, it will be playful.

Like his want for Optimus to chase him around before catching him to use his spark.

There isn't a bot alive who would be able to hear him say 'no' to Optimus during that chase and think he meant it. Not with how he intends to say it, taunting Optimus into chasing him faster.

He wants his bondmate to be wild for him by the time he allows himself to be caught.

But this, with Megatron, is nothing like that. If he . . if he has no choice, and must stay with Megatron, he is going to make sure the bot knows when he is sincere. At the very least, he is going to obtain a safeword, and if Megatron ignores it, he will have legal recourse for breaking up whatever bonding Megatron forces on him. The bonding Councils are very strict about such things.

Blitzwing moves a tiny bit closer to him, not quite touching him, "I will do my best to keep you safe, mei- Princess Oil Zlick. You will not need to worry about anyzing too terrible will happen to you."

He offlines his optics, "I wish you didn't have to censor yourself. You know that I adored you calling me your's, didn't you?" He still does, really. Even if he was getting bonded to Optimus, he always looked forward to the tiny little slip of the glossa Blitzwing did when he visits.

Blitzwing coughs into his servo, "I should never have done zat in ze first place, Princess Oil Zlick. It is rude to be so familiar when you are so very above me." The mech stands up, "I will be outside ze room, princess. You need only call to have me return."

"Stay with me," Oil Slick demands, and Blitzwing pauses.

"Ze only reason Lord Megatron will allow me to stay in ze room wiz you is if you have me self-service for you, Princess. I cannot stay here ozerwise."

Oil Slick looks away. "Then you may go." It is obvious the triple-changer does not want to self-service for him, and he will not make a bot do something so intimate if the bot is not interested. "If you know of any energon treats around, I would not say no to one later." It would give him a chance to lick Blitzwing's fingers.

"I will tell meine Lord of your desire for sweets, Princess."

No. That wasn't what he wanted at all.

He shakes his head, "I want them from you."

The triple-changer looks away, "Nein. I can not. Zat would mean zat I may touch you. Lord Megatron also specified zat he be ze only one to do zat. I will tell him you re-"

"No." He wiggles in the chains, "If you do not feed them to me, I don't want them at all. It is you or no one." Or Optimus, but he knows saying that will do nothing to help him.

Blitzwing leaves the room without saying anything else, and Oil Slick slumps down on the berth, spark overwhelmed with despair. How had he ended up in this situation? Was it truly punishment for bringing a chain with him to his bonding? That hardly seemed fair, or just. No, it had to be bad luck.

He tugs on the chains, and feels his stupid spark heat up with desire at how well bound he is. Primus must hate him, to give him like this to Megatron.

He wonders if he can get out of this on his own, but it is doubtful. Maybe he can convince Blitzwing to defect or something like that. There is an old rule that returning a bot unsullied after a being stolen away means you can demand to bond with that bot. Well, not if you're the one that stole them away, though. That would just encourage bots to botnap the one they want to demand a bonding from.

He could have Blitzwing save him and he can return to Haydon IV. He may not get Optimus if that happens, but he'd at least get Blitzwing. Maybe. ... unlikely.

He'd likely be exposed as a mech before that and be nothing more than a pauper dragging Blitzwing down with him. He is helpless to everything, and he wishes he had been trained to do more than this. He can lead a planet with another bot at his side, but he can't fight his way out or wiggle out of chains like a fully trained ninjabot.

It wouldn't have been proper to be a trained ninjabot if he was a submissive femme, but . . it would have been useful. And useful was more important than proper.

Oil Slick feels a bit of optical lubricant leaking down his cheeks, and turns his head to try and wipe it off on the metal mesh, not wanting such a visible sign of his misery showing. He would not appear to be some weak, terrified femme. No. He would look strong and defiant and not give Megatron anything he wanted at all.

He forces his optics offline, and initializes his systems to go into recharge. He doesn't want to keep thinking about what terrible things are going to happen to him, and recharge will be an easy way to stop the thoughts.

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