Chapter Text
Smooth metal gliding over his digits.
He let the chain run for a bit, watching the links slide across the palm of his hand. The sound of the bot struggling on the floor, wriggling his crippled body little by little in a futile attempt at escape. His hands searching ahead, digits looking for anything foreign or something to guide them forward as his optics had been forcefully dimmed leaving him blind. The muffled sounds from his gagged mouth were the only real sounds in the room. Only the clinking of the chain accompanied him.
It was pitiful and Megatron watched with contempt at the display.
But in a way he found it endearing that even as crippled as Sentinel was, he still tried to leave him. Still tried to flee.
It was cowardly and pathetic, but it was still a sign of perseverance, of bravery against all odds.
Or perhaps it was stupidity.
Sentinel knew what Megatron would do to him if he caught him trying to escape again. He knew Megatron would not show mercy.
But the false Prime still tried. Again and again.
It reminded him of Orion.
His former friend, current enemy. The most stubborn rule breaker D-16 had ever known.
They were so alike. Could always talk themselves out of a bind with their smooth honeyed words, and it was always D-16 who was left behind to pick up the pieces.
But Orion was gone now and Megatron was left with Sentinel.
Good enough.
Sentinel's cogless frame was pathetic. Not much different from Orion's frame. Small enough to easily pick up and carry around if he so wished to, and he had to since Sentinel was in no condition to walk.
Tearing the bot in half and then roughly welding him back together did leave him with a few defects, the biggest being his crippled legs. But it suited Megatron well. This way he didn't have to restrain him more than the collar around his neck, the occasional cuffs and the chain he held in his hands.
Speaking of…
Sentinel's hand reached the doorstep, the furthest he had accomplished in a while, but far enough to land Sentinel a sizable punishment later.
Megatron's digits closed around the smooth links and yanked the chain back.
Sentinel gurgled out a cry of pain, muffled by the metal cylinder between his teeth, as he was tossed backwards into the room, landing on his back with his useless legs in an awkward position beneath him.
The welds around his middle creaked, threatening to crack open.
His hands reached for his neck, digits clawing uselessly at the collar. Megatron yanked the chain again in warning. Sentinel should know better.
But apparently Sentinel wanted to fight today, and while Megatron didn't mind there were other things he would rather do, like recharging.
He decided to make this quick.
He flipped Sentinel over onto his front again. The mech grunted at the rough treatment and tried to drag himself away again, but Megatron pinned him to the floor with a single hand on the back of his chassis.
Parting his useless legs was easy and he felt Sentinel tense up beneath him.
Ever since Megatron got hold of the false Prime, his modesty panels were no longer attached to his frame. In fact, Megatron had disposed of them quite a while ago which meant Sentinel's array was permanently on display, albeit with a few minor changes. Shockwave had eagerly helped his leader modify Sentinel's body to his liking and one of these changes was that the spike cover had been welded shut. It was to ensure he could never pressurise it. He would only ever feel pleasure from his valve and that too had gotten a few adjustments, mostly increased sensitivity making small jolts of pleasure hit Sentinel every time his lower region moved around. His legs might be crippled but his array certainly wasn't. It could sometimes leave him panting, fans whirring loudly in a futile attempt at cooling down his hot frame. And the only thing that would end it was an overload, leaving the former leader desperate for any form of stimulation, be it from his own digits or something else. Another reason for Sentinel to not move around so much. If he stayed put he could avoid the worst of it.
Unless Megatron wanted something.
Megatron plunging one of his digits into his exposed valve forced a grunt out of him, his entire frame jerking forward just a bit.
The soft mesh parted easily for Megatron's finger, allowing him to insert another with little resistance.
Below him Sentinel choked down a moan, his own digits clawing at the floor, leaving lines in the metal, as lubricant seeped from his gagged mouth.
Megatron crooked his digits and Sentinel's body jerked again, before Megatron pulled his hand back, pulling Sentinel's body with him, closer to Megatron's own. The action scraped the digits over the nodes inside Sentinel's valve and he cried out behind the gag, his head thrashing from side to side.
"You brought this upon yourself," Megatron said and crooked his digits further, feeling Sentinel's body trembling beneath him.
As Megatron unfurled his fingers and removed them, Sentinel relaxed again, head dropping to the floor and lolled back and forth, but he didn't try to move away. At this point in their play session he knew it was pointless. Megatron would have his way no matter what he did.
Sentinel heard the telltale signs of a spike pressurising and his entire body tensed up again against his will. He should be used to this by now, but he wasn't. Not with Megatron.
The only upside was that his valve had already produced enough lubricant to make it slightly more bearable.
For all the modifications Shockwave had made on his frame since he got here, that one was the one he didn't outright hate. It had its uses.
Megatron let his hand slide over Sentinel's aft. It was no longer polished gold, as his cogless form was much more subdued, now a dull silver.
With his frame like this, if Megatron squinted he could almost imagine that Sentinel's frame was Orion's. It was almost the same colours, mostly blue and silver, just missing the red.
It was enough though.
Megatron pushed forward, burying his spike in Sentinel's moist valve.
Beneath him, Sentinel groaned, his fingers clawing at the floor again.
The size difference between them was significant, but surprisingly enough Megatron had yet to injure the false Prime during interface. Sentinel's frame was resilient and that seemed to include his valve. It made him wonder about a few things.
Sentinel moaned as Megatron started to move, his spike dragging over most of his nodes as he pulled out, before ramming back inside. His soppy wet valve made a squelching sound as lubricant was pushed out around the large spike. It trickled down Sentinel's thighs to form a little puddle on the floor beneath them.
Megatron's pace was brutal, rocking Sentinel's body back and forth, making the chain connected to his collar jingle. The hard precise thrusts filled Sentinel's valve completely each time, making his callipers yearn to grip around the girthy intruder and milk it.
"Touch yourself," Megatron commanded, his voice alone was more than enough to make Sentinel reach a hand down to his array and gently prod his anterior node. He was so sensitive only a featherlight touch was needed but it was more than enough to make his callipers flutter.
Sentinel tightened around his spike as he continued to touch himself, making Megatron pick up the pace, ramming into the soft heat over and over. Below him Sentinel was panting, his fans whirring in vain as they tried to cool him down, but Megatron enjoyed the heat emanating from his frame.
It reminded him of someone else, of someone he spent so much time with but was now gone, replaced by someone else who was no longer them.
"Pax," Megatron breathed out longingly, his hands caressing the chassis of the bot beneath him.
Sentinel closed his dimmed optics when he heard Megatron utter that name. Just another confirmation that he was a toy, a replacement, nothing more.
It stung, but he was almost used to it by now.
Megatron's grip around his waist tightened, his digits digging into Sentinel's welds, bending the metal until it creaked.
A last forceful thrust, hard enough to jerk Sentinel's body forward, and hot transfluid flooded Sentinel's valve. It was enough to trigger Sentinel's own, his callipers clenching around Megatron's spike, milking him dry. It almost hurt when he pulled out, but the flood of lubricant and transfluid that followed soothed any sore mesh or nodes he had.
At least now Megatron would leave him alone for a bit.
Megatron sighed and sat down on his berth, his spike depressurised and he closed his modesty panels.
As much as he hated it he still yearned for Orion. But since he now was a Prime, Megatron had to deal with the conflicting emotions that came with it.
But one thing was crystal clear. He was going to rip the Matrix from Optimus' chest. That way he could have his Pax back, and not having to deal with the pitiful surrogate at his feet.
Sentinel groaned as he pushed himself up from the floor, pushing his frame onto his side.
He was tired and he could recharge like this if necessary.
But Megatron had other plans.
"Come here," he commanded and Sentinel groaned. "Now."
He didn't dare disobey that order. Not now. He was too tired.
So he dragged himself over to the berth, trying not to bonk his head against the frame when he got close.
At least Megatron was patient. And if he wasn't he could only blame himself for dimming Sentinel's optics and tearing him literally in half.
When close enough his helm was roughly grabbed by Megatron and he pulled Sentinel up so he could at least rest one arm on the berth, and then he unbuckled the gag with his other hand.
Sentinel flexed his sore jaw, the pistons and hinges creaking after being stuck in the same position for too long.
But he knew what would come next and he wasn't very thrilled about it.
"Please…" Sentinel said, voice meek and pleading.
"What have I said about begging?" Megatron scolded, still with a firm grip on his helm, but his sharp tone was enough to make the bot flinch and he bit down on his derma, clearly afraid to speak again. He had forgotten himself and the rules once again. Just like Pax. "Open your mouth."
He hesitated but eventually opened it, shoulders tense.
Sentinel could expect two things from this command.
- Megatron would shove his spike down his intake and expect him to service it.
- Megatron would feed him.
Neither were guaranteed and Megatron would not tell him which it would be.
Megatron flipped open a box on the berthside table with his free hand and fished out a small energon cube. He placed it on Sentinel's tongue and pushed it into his mouth and the bot visibly relaxed, his shoulders slipping into a more relaxed position.
He swallowed the cube and kept his mouth shut, which suited Megatron well. The mech had a tendency to let his tongue run wild and Megatron only had so much patience.
Before he let the bot go he reattached the gag.
"Go to your corner."
Sentinel obeyed and dragged himself over to the corner that Megatron had deemed his. Then Megatron got up and took the end of the chain connected to his collar and attached it to a ring on the wall.
As useless as Sentinel was, Megatron was not stupid enough to allow Sentinel free movement around him when recharging.
With Sentinel secured, his small cogless frame curled up in the corner, Megatron returned to the berth and turned off the light, then powered down his frame and slipped into recharge. He would worry about figuring out a way to punish Sentinel in the morning.
In the corner, Sentinel kept his optics open, because for him it didn't matter if the light was on or off.
All he saw was darkness and he was alone in it.