Chapter Eighteen

[girloz14]

Typewith: http://typewith.me/gonnamarryoptimuswhehegrowsup

Title: The Importance of Modesty

Rating: There is porn in a later chapter

Summary: A tale of fanciful dress, romantic intrigue, stalking, and robots.

Includes: Sparks, bondage, mentions of sticky, mentions of non-con acts, stalking, serial monogamy, threesomes, clothing on robots.



"Where are we going?" It seems like a very long time to be walking, and he's rather curious.

"My throne room," Megatron answers, entering the room that moment. It's a cavernous room, with a grant throne in the center, where the mech sits down, gazing out at the few Decepticons there with a regal expression. Optimus shivers and hides under the blanket more. There are bots here that he does not recognize. Most of them are quite large, and they all look at Megatron and Optimus with lust in their optics. "I have wonderful news to announce," Megatron purrs, stroking Optimus's frame.

Optimus shifts uncomfortably in Megatron's arms, only to have his spark freeze in his chamber at the sudden sight of something he hadn't thought was possible. They had been told that Blurr was offline. Spindle bristles with anger in his arms, and he rubs the weaver's back, not to calm him, but to calm himself. Optimus points a servo that is shaking with anger at Shockwave, who is leading Blurr on a leash and in a disgusting open-mouthed mouthclamp, "What. Is. This?"

Megatron pauses, looking over at the bot, "Oh... I had forgotten. The racecar was one of your students, wasn't he? One of the ones that had gotten away before."

"Yes," Optimus hisses, "he was. He is. You will release him immediately."

Megatron sighs, and beckons the one-opticked bot over. "Shockwave?"

"Yes, my liege?" the mesk asks, his tone eager, even if his optic slides once or twice to Optimus with dismay and dislike. "How may I serve you this sol?" It's obvious the mech will do anything for Megatron.

"I want you to release the racecar. Seeing a former student as your berthbot is quite upsetting for my consort." Megatron tips Optimus's face up and kisses him, ignoring Shockwave's sudden gasp of dismay, and the sudden silence around them at Megatron's declaration. "You will release him and then drop him off with that local group of bots here."

Shockwave's servos shake, "Yes, my lord. Anything you say." The bot starts to tug on the leash, moving Blurr away, but Optimus glares at him.

"Take off the mouthclamp and leash now."

Shockwave looks reluctant, but a glance at Megatron makes him do it. Spindle climbs out from the metal mesh to curl up on Megatron's shoulder, glaring at the spybot with firm disapproval. When Blurr is free, the mech gasps, yanking away roughly from Shockwave, "Primus!" Oil Slick's modification of the bot has slowed his voice so that it is never going to be a incomprehensible blur again, and is now a low seductive tone that all of the bots that the ninjabot thought talked too much got modified to. "I never thought I'd see you again, sir!"

"We thought you had been offlined," Optimus says, his voice tight with restrained emotion. "It is good to see that they were only rumors, agent Blurr."

Blurr salutes him out of reflex, "Yes, sir." He yelps as sharp claws wrap around his chest, "No, not again, I don't-"

Megatron narrows his optics, "I told you to release him, Shockwave."

The mech lowers his optic. "And he is free from his leash and gag now. I only wish to remove him from your presence. My . . . Agent Blurr is a spybot. It would be unwise to let him stay here any longer."

Optimus narrows his optics, knowing that the mech just wants to sparkrape Blurr before returning him. "I want him returned to the Autobot base immediately." He pauses, "Did you empty his subspace?" He knows that Blurr has an expanded subspace, since he went on the vacation with them, and had been steadily filling it with clothing and all sorts of other useful things. The idea of this... creepy Decepticon touching everything his student owns disgusts him to his spark.

Shockwave looks irritated, "What does th-" The bot in-vents, "Yes. Of course, I did."

Optimus glares, "Then you will leave Blurr here while you return all of his things."

The mech's engine rumbles quietly, a warning to him. "I do not believe that-"

"Do as my consort tells you to, Shockwave," Megatron murmurs, stroking a finger along Optimus's shoulder. "If he wants the racecar to stay here, then he can." The Decepticon dims his optics. "There is more than enough room on my lap to keep the bot while you go fetch his things." He plucks Blurr from Shockwave's claws and tucks the bot under the blanket with Optimus. "There. Are you happier now, my consort?"

Optimus watches as Shockwave leaves, and nods, "I could be happier, but this will do for now."

Blurr blinks at him for a moment, then drops against him, curling against him in a almost broken manner that is hidden from the prying optics by the blanket, "Th-thank you, sir."

He rubs Blurr's back soothingly, "You don't need to thank me, Blurr. All the rest of my students are safe, I would never let you stay here." He's thankful to Oil Slick for that. The bot had rescued each and every single one of them when they were about to offline from overuse in the berth, and returned them one at a time. Sadly, Optimus was exiled at that point, and hadn't been there to see their returns, even if he was very happy to get the news of it every time.

Blurr tenses against him, "N . . not all of them. Sir, he has . . he keeps minibot slaves. Nearly a dozen of them. I know some of them were trained by you." The racecar makes a soft, half-broken sound, "He's hacked them all into obedience. They all think that they love him."

Fury blazes in his spark. "Megatron?" he asks, waiting for the mech to look down at him. "I want Shockwave to release all of the minibots he's holding captive. And I want their code returned to normal."

"My head spybot is going to wonder what he has done to upset me so."

Spindle drops down into Blurr's arms, "He should not have done zat at all. Zey are our students. How dare he?"

Blurr hugs Spindle, "He does not care. Sedan joined him on his own, though. He wanted to be with Shockwave. He didn't need to have his code rewritten to be with him."

Megatron's engine rumbles unpleasantly, moving Spindle away from Blurr and into Optimus's arms, "He will be told to take out the code and to let them go. The ones that want to stay may stay. If they want to leave, they may leave."

"All Decepticons with . . berthslaves must offer them freedom," Optimus says, and Megatron presses a finger to his mouth to silence him, his expression irritated.

"You are too idealistic. I will not order my bots to simply give up the pets they have had for decavorns." Megatron pinches one of his headfins through his hat. "We will discuss options later, in private. It is enough to get your students freed for now. Be grateful."

He frowns, but realizes this may be the best he will get for now. He can discuss more later, and deal with it then. He sighs softly, and rubs Spindle's side, "Blurr, are you hurt?"

The bot shakes his head, "No. I'm not. Shockwave is surprisingly ... gentle in comparison to my previous treatment with the Decepticons. Much better than Lockdown. He doesn't have a spike."

He rubs Blurr's back, cuddling him gently and ignoring the jealous rumble coming from Megatron, "You won't be going back to him. You don't need to worry about that."

"I know sir, thank you," Blurr kisses his cheek, and Megatron's rumble grows louder, his servo coming down to pull Blurr to the opposite side of his lap. A breem or so later, Shockwave comes back with three squirming minibots, one of whom is bright red and trying to snap his claws off with sharp denta. He deposits them on the floor in front of Megatron, Freewheel and Crashcourse huddling together with confusion and fear on their faces, Cliffjumper in mild stasis cuffs.

"I," Shockwave makes a broken sound, "I do not believe that I can . . . you must give me more time to repair my other minis, my liege. They have been with me much longer, before I perfected my hacking techniques."

Optimus twitches, "I can allow it as long as they aren't being hurt. I want them returned the very moment they're repaired."

Shockwave looks insulted, "I would never hurt them! I love-"

"You kept us in a cage, you fragger!" Cliffjumper interjects angrily, trying to yank free of the cuffs, even if it isn't really possible.

Shockwave pinches Cliffjumper's horn painfully, "It is to keep you safe, little one. None of the others complai-"

"That stops. This very instant. And you will never do that again." Optimus tries to drop out of Megatron's lap, only to be scooped back up, "Release me at once. He's hurting Cliffjumper."

"He is administering a very mild form of discipline," Megatron corrects. "I believe if you were to embarrass yourself in front of your Magnus at a council meeting, you would be given extra paperwork or lessons in diplomacy. We simply believe in a more direct approach." He slips his fingers under Optimus's hat and gives his headfin a teasing tweak.

Optimus tries to keep from revving, but fails miserably.

He bats the mech's servo away, "Stop that."

Cliffjumper frowns at them, voice dripping with disapproval, "You bonded to him." The minibot must have spotted the massive amount of paint all over them, not that it was hard to miss. The bot always did pay extra attention when he explained odd rituals about Haydon IV, even if the mech never planned on going and was deeply resistant to ever wearing clothing.

He gives the mech a hard look, "And the war will be ending. What did I tell you about doing anything it takes, soldier?"

Cliffjumper falls silent, his expression still fixed into a scowl. Optimus just sighs and wishes that his job was a bit easier sometimes. He can't even guarantee that the war will end in the Autobots' favor at this point. Most of what he had to bargain is gone now, since he is bonded to Megatron quite thoroughly.

Shockwave scoops up all three minibots and hugs them tightly, prompting dismayed squeaks from the three, "I will miss you all, my sweetsparks. I am sorry that I have to let you go."

Freewheel and Crashcourse shake, pushing Shockwave away while also trying to hug him in a confused manner. Optimus frowns, not happy with how the programming isn't completely out. He's going to have to ask Perceptor to do it, most likely, and hope for the best. If that doesn't work, his former students are going to have to come back here for more time with this horrible bot. He isn't looking forward to that at all.

He is relieved when Megatron puts them all on his large lap, even if the mech does it extremely reluctantly. Optimus starts to remove Cliffjumper's stasiscuffs and asks, "And where are Blurr's things?"

Shockwave's optic twitches, "There is far too much to fit into a single subspace-"

"I'm sure you have storage boxes."

It is painfully obvious that the mech wishes he could force Optimus into a mouthclamp. "I will have his things shortly. However, I cannot return everything. There were several recording devices filled with information he had stolen from us, and I was forced to destroy them. I am certain you understand that, my liege."

Megatron nods, and rubs a finger down Optimus's back, teasing his lightbar, "I am more than willing to replace any pieces that were unusually expensive. Otherwise, the loss is justified."

He'd like to protest it, but he knows that is something that is done just on principle. He smiles when the cuffs come off of Cliffjumper, and grabs the minibot before he can spring and attack, "Stop that. You aren't going to attack my bonded. I could have left you in the cuffs, Cliffjumper."

The minibot squirms angrily, pinned between him and Megatron's armor, "He's a Decepticon! Megatron! The worst of the lot!"

He rolls his optics, "And he's my bonded. You will stand down, or I will not be happy."

"Oh, boo-fraggin'-hoo," Cliffjumper growls. "You're the one who taught me to make sure to offline you if you went to the 'Cons."

Optimus flushes, "That is out of context, Cliffjumper. You know I was referring to the unlikely scenario that I became a traitor and took a Decepticon brand." Probably because he'd been hacked by Oil Slick. "Show some respect, or I am more than willing to put you back in the restraints."

Cliffjumper glares, "You're turning tra-"

"Optimus!" comes an all too familiar cry again, and Optimus rubs his optics tiredly as Oil Slick comes rushing in. "There you are!"

Optimus reaches into his subspace, not the least bit surprised to find it lacking of anything at all. He had been hoping for something to restrain Oil Slick and possibly Cliffjumper with, but that is out of the question, Megatron was just too through. "This sol is just... too busy."

"Zat is very true, meine Optimus," Spindle murmurs, just before Oil Slick comes hurtling towards them.

Blitzwing darts forward from the crowd and yanks Oil Slick into his arms. "Nein, little bot. You will not be doing zis today. You will be a good bot and stay wiz me." He pinches a headscrew, before sliding his servos down to rub at his sparkplates. "Be a good bot, little mech."

Oil Slick whines, reaching out towards the throne, "But . . my Optimus. He's . . . that . . Megatron has bonded with him." Oil Slick looks almost sparkbroken. "That bonding paint should be mine."

Blitzwing shakes his head, "Nein, you will not fight zis. Not now." The triple-changer kisses Oil Slick demandingly, making the cyclebot mewl with want, "We will be going to our rooms, and you will not pay attention to zis. We can work zrough it later." Oil Slick scrambles at the bot's armor, but doesn't actively try to escape his hold, only making tiny upset sounds at being denied what he wants as he's carried out of the throne room.

Megatron rubs a finger on Optimus's side, humming softly, "That is going to be a problem later on. I am not going to allow this sort of behavior to continue from him."

"Hopefully it will just take some time," Optimus says cautiously. "Oil Slick used to be very good at adapting to things. He seems to like Blitzwing very much as well." And after Optimus shared a few of the bot's intimate secrets, Oil Slick would love him even more. "Perhaps we could make bonding cloths for the pair and hope they take the hint and cover each other in paint."

"Zat is a vonderful idea," Spindle enthuses, rubbing against him. "Ve vill make zem ze best bonding clozes, and zen make zem bond zat very night."

"We'll need to make Megatron's clothing first," he murmurs, cuddling against his large lover absently as he pets Spindle. "A bonded always comes first, and we can't ignore-"

Cliffjumper interrupts him, startling him since he had spaced out that his students were even there, "You are turning traitor! I knew it! I shou-"

He slaps the cuffs back on the mech's wrists, "Be polite, Cliffjumper. I have things I need to do. If I was on Haydon IV, all of this would be done already. But now I'm bonded to..." He groans, rubbing his optics, Spindle doing the same, "We're going to need so many things, and we're going to have to make it ourselves. We're not allowed to let other bots make it." He glares up at Megatron, "This is all your fragging fault. Spindle and I have to make your fragging wardrobe since you bonded with us without a bonding wrap, and since you have such a high status it has to be a intricate wardrobe. We need to get started on this right away. Why did we even let you take us out of the room? We should have been working on this now."

Megatron chuckles, tickling his armor lightly, "I have an empire to run, Optimus. You will see when we return to New Kaon. I cannot sit for measurements and fittings, unless you intend to do them in public. I have things that have to be done."

Optimus growls at him, "And I have clothing that has to be made. You will consent to every fitting I ask of you, or I will paddle your aft until it's red."

Megatron gives him an amused look, "Will you really? Well, I will have to just let you measure me for clothing, then." The bot rubs his aft, optics dim, "Later, though. For now we will be here. I will be changing out of this alt mode later on. I need to blend in for now."

He growls irritably, "If you go back, we can make you clothing, and the humans will be less afraid of you. This is a clothing required planet, and they know that the bots in clothing won't hurt them. Even if you-"

Megatron presses a kiss to his lips, "Later, my consort. Later. For now, we will be doing this."

He pushes Megatron's head away roughly, ignoring how the bot revs for him, "We are doing nothing. We need to do this now, or it will never get finished. The clutching will be finished before we are even halfway finished with the wardrobe, and that is if you have all the materials we need for it."

"Very well," Megatron hums, kissing the bot again, before rising to his peds. "My loyal Decepticons," he waits until they are watching him, "my consorts request time with me. We shall be celebrating our bond for the rest of the decacycle. General Strika will assume command in my absence." He drops the three minibots and Blurr into Lugnut's arms, "Please return these to the Autobots. I know that I can trust you to handle them with care."

Lugnut nearly glows with pride, "Yes, my liege! I will do my best to-"

Optimus interrupts, "Make sure to get all of the items that were taken from all of their subspaces from Shockwave. Most of it will be out of date for Freewheel and Crashcourse, but it is better than nothing. I want them all to be safe."

Lugnut shifts a little uncomfortably, but nods, "Of course."

Megatron smiles, "Very good, Lugnut."

Lugnut smiles at Megatron, his optics brightening with happiness at the recognition. "I will not fail you, my liege." The mech leaves, and Optimus watches his students wave farewell at him. Watches Cliffjumper bite Lugnut's armor.

The mech never learns. You don't deliberately aggravate your captors. That only drives them to be even worse to you. Optimus sighs, leaning against his lovers. "We have much work to do. Let's get you fitted for a basic cloak first."

Megatron nods, "If that's what you wish. I have nothing against a cloak. I have seen the ones you wear, and I can-"

"When I say basic, I mean basic for you." He tucks Spindle in his arms, "Your most basic one is still quite complicated. You are going to have to have intricate designs all over it. Granted, for now we can let you get away with just the barest of things since you have nothing." The idea of it makes him shudder, and he can feel that Spindle thinks the same, "However, you can not go without for long. The very moment we finish something better, that is what you will be wearing."

Spindle shifts unhappily, "It vould shame our creators to see you in vhat ve put you in at first. You vill not be seen by anyvone on Haydon IV before ve are ready."

"I have no intention of contacting the planet anytime soon," Megatron shrugs. He sits on his berth and dims his optics, "Will you be measuring me now?" He stretches out lazily, showing off his armor. "Only temporary things. I will be changing back to my original frame soon. If you like, I can give you the schematics for it, so you can make future clothing to those specifications."

Optimus grumbles, his engine whining a bit with distress, "You're a fragger. You have no idea how complicated it is to make the things we have to make for you."

Megatron smiles, "I'm sure that it won't be that bad. We can just modify what you make. You don't need to worry so much, my consort." The bot tugs him closer, one large servo rubbing his back, "We could spend time just ... exploring each other's frames. Possibly modify your's like we discussed?" The bot dims his optics further, "That would be-"

He pushes the servo away, and Spindle slashes at him angrily, "Nein! You vill change to your Cybertronion alt mode zis very instant! Ve vill not do zis... zis... faffing about!"

Megatron tips his helm to one side, considering them. "What motivation do I have to alter my frame so early for you?"

"The war will be ending soon, and we'll be leaving earth, and," Optimus flushes, looking away, "I rather like your Cybertronian alt. The . . sharp angles are very appealing to me." He runs a servo over Spindle's frame. He's always been attracted to sharp-edged bots. Oil Slick, Spindle, now Megatron . . . He has a thing for bots with points and sharp lines. It's a bit embarrassing.

The mech smirks, "No, I already realized that." The bot rubs Optimus's side, "I am asking, what will you do if I change my frame? Will you be willing to go to Hook and have your chestplates modified? I am willing to do this if you are."

He shifts, feeling like he should demand more to modify his own frame, "And you can not complain about what type of clothing we put on you. At all." He knows that bots that grew up without any always protested the more extravagant types of clothing. He wants that to stop before it even starts.

"I will not complain so long as it does not hinder my ability to lead or to fight," Megatron bargains back, lifting his right arm and fusion cannon significantly. "Other than that, I am willing to act as your model, my little consorts. I may not have been raised with clothing, but I have worn it on occasion, though I admit it was largely only on very cold planets. Planets where going without would have been significantly uncomfortable." He kisses Optimus gently, and then presses a kiss to Spindle's mandibles. The mech is surprisingly respectful with his kisses to the weaver. Most bots try to stuff their glossa in the tiny mouth, even though weavers tend to hate such kisses. Megatron just gently licks his mandibles, and the tiny glossa when it emerges.

He must have kissed Scalpel before.

Optimus leans against the mech, "Then I will modify my frame if you return to your Cybertronion one, and do not argue about your clothing. We need to have this done, and you can not complain. We'll be able to do modifications of everything because of what you specifically have on your frame, but only if you are in the the correct-"

Megatron rubs his sparkplates, toying with his windshield wipers, "I think you will be keeping these. They look so delicious and delicate. You will be so lovely spread under me as I use your spark again."

Optimus flushes with heat, pushing his servos away, "Stop that. We need to start working right away. And I need to contact my team and let them know what is happening. Spindle, you collect the cloth we'll need." He turns to Megatron, "You go change your altmode." To the console, his voice uneasy, "I will . . . contact my team." They are going to not take this well.

Megatron presses a kiss to his head, "Very well, my consort. While I do that, I will also contact Hook so that he can start to prep the medical bay for your frame size. I will be there as he works on you."

He grabs the mech, "Where are all the things you took from my subspace?"

The bot pauses, then pulls out a large amount of storage boxes from under the berth. "Right here. The purple boxes are clothing, the green are the rest. All of your cubes of energon are in this box here," the mech pats one that is smaller than the rest and is pink. "I've never seen a bot so... prepared." Megatron's optics dim, "I will need to get an expanded subspace if that is the norm."

Optimus gives the bot a dirty look, "You would get an expanded subspace no matter what. We aren't letting you have a normal sized one, and you are likely going to have get a larger one than usual because of the size and scope of wardrobe you're supposed to have benefiting your station." He rubs his optics, "Just go." He needs to get an outfit to put on to hide the worst of the splashes of paint from his team, even if he'll forgo the gloves to prove he's bonded.

His lovers both leave, Spindle hissing to himself about being tasked to find fabric in a group of bots who do not wear clothing.