Chapter Text
Another battle for a mech in heat. Nothing new. Megatronus had claimed many mechs and had many sparklings bearing his powerful genes. Sometimes he wondered just how far his reach now stretched; certainly beyond Kaon.
At least one of his conquests had returned to Vos, heavy with his brood. Megatronus smiled to himself as he imagined that pompous aft birthing a tank.
The scandal.
Today, however, was no one special. Some guttermech they'd picked up. A pretty guttermech, he'd been told, but he was no prize beyond that.
No matter. Victory was reward enough. And always assured for Megatronus. Frankly, he wondered how they found him any opponents, but then again, the world was full of hot-helmed fools who thought they were the next big thing.
Megatronus casually rolled his shoulders as he waited to make his entrance. Beyond the doors, he could hear the crowd chanting his name. No matter how many times he did this, he still felt the adrenaline. The rush. It kept his wits sharp and reminded him that he still owed his fans a show worthy of his name.
The doors parted. The crowd erupted into cheers that fell on deaf audials, because a different sense took precedent.
The scent of him. It hit him like a wall. Stock-still in the arena, he opened all of his vents to draw in his debilitating essence, which was how the other gladiator got in the first blow.
The crowd gasped, outraged. Many of them jeered Megatronus for such a rookie mistake. A mistake he would not be making again.
There would be no flair for dramatics in this battle. It would be no contest. His superiors may reprimand him for cutting the battle short, but he would not be losing this match under any circumstances.
He did toy with his opponent for a few moments. Just enough for him to grow reckless, assuming he'd won already. Which was why it was only minutes before Megatronus decapitated the unfortunate mech, his helm rolling away while his frame collapsed before him.
The crowd held a collective ventilation before cheers erupted all around him, chanting his name. Normally, he would take a moment or two to bask in their admiration. Even when his codpiece ached for release. Today, though, he retracted his sword before striding purposefully toward the raised dais.
A fiery mech awaited him. Fiery, but drenched in condensation and lubricant. Every vent poured steam while his cooling fans roared in a desperate attempt to expel the heat coursing through his lines.
Megatronus’ plating dripped with spilled energon, mixing with the condensation from the humidity. He took a moment to truly enjoy his heat scent. While mechs in heat always smelled good, this one was different. He couldn't pinpoint just what, but he wouldn't be forgetting this one as easily as the others.
Beyond that moment, he wasted no time.
Megatronus allowed his spike to pressurize as he approached the smaller mech. Much smaller. His torso wasn't much bigger than Megatronus’ forearm, and his plating was light. Made for speed.
Not for gladiator spike.
His pretty pink-red plating glimmered in the low, sultry light. For a brief moment he thought he had wings, but no, the kibble on his back was a golden spoiler. A tempting thing draped with golden, gossamer fabric. A decoration that would surely be a casualty from his breeding.
“Oh, you're huge.” Pretty blue optics cycled wide in what would likely be fear if arousal wasn't tainting his every thought and feeling. They took in his frame hungrily.
“It'll fit,” Megatronus said gruffly.
His prize gasped as he tugged his hand free of his drenched valve. His next gasp was far more lustful as his hips were grabbed and yanked up until Megatronus’ spike rested on that pretty, puffy valve. His lips were so swollen he wouldn't have been able to close his panel if he wanted to.
He took a moment to admire how huge he made his spike look.
“Fuck me already,” the mech begged, his optics bleary from his heat.
“Patience,” Megatronus gently chastised. Rubbing his spike against his anterior node, he said, “Worry not, little one. Relief is coming.”
Though his frame was begging him to fully give into the coding, he didn't truly want to break him. After all, he may want to play with this toy again. So he eased his way inside, testing the stretch of each ring of calipers before advancing further.
Oh, he was tight, but not worryingly so. He wouldn't have been surprised if this fiery little thing got around. Either for credits or fun.
“How's that?” Megatronus purred to the gasping mech beneath him.
“More,” he begged.
“More?” Megatronus obliged him, while still leaving more to give. He seemed like the greedy type. Always demanding more.
His wanton moans echoed around the arena while the crowd cheered Megatronus on for a new reason. Oh, yes… they'd be in for a show tonight.
Megatronus lifted the mech. He was impossibly light while cradled in strong gladiator arms. He looked so frail. So breakable. And he would be broken. Broken in. Trained to take the spike that carelessly slipped deeper, pressing at his tender forge seal.
“Is this your first heat cycle?” Megatronus asked quietly. Musing to himself, really. The scalding frame in his arms wouldn’t waste processing power answering useless questions.
His spoiler smacked against the glass, the wind knocked from his vents while his hands left streaks in the fogged-up glass. The crowd went wild. Even more so when Megatronus lost his patience and shoved the rest of his spike in, tearing through the weak seal and spilling his first round inside his conquest.
His fiery lover squeaked out a quiet, “fuck,” while one hand went to his belly, swelling ever so slightly.
“Don’t you dare waste a drop,” Megatronus threatened. “My transfluid is in high demand.”
“You’re—ohh—you’re br-breaking me.”
“That’s the idea.”
His prize’s optics rolled back into his helm, his hips rocking, all of his movements out of his limited control. Every thrust into his dripping valve drove whatever coherency the poor, lucky mech clung to.
“It’s too—fuck!—it’s too much!”
“Nonsense,” Megatronus purred. “I fit you perfectly.” The obvious bulge of his spike in the mech’s abdomen stretched the meaning of that word. Just like how he was stretching his hole.
The fiery mech panted, his optics unfocused, clinging to Megatronus like a lifeline. Could he hear the crowd cheering? They wanted to see him bred. Claimed.
“What a lovely prize.” Megatronus sunk a finger into his open mouth, deep enough to make him gag. His heat-clouded processor made him suck on that finger like it was deep-rooted coding. His own personal pleasure drone. He wanted to know what his pretty mouth would look like straining around his spike. In that moment, though, there was no force on Cybertron that could pull him from his hot, sopping valve.
Megatronus grunted, lubricant splashing across his array and dripping down his thighs. Hot air cycled through his systems, doing nothing to cool him. His HUD gave him many warnings for overheating and all were ignored.
“Do you feel how deep I am?” Megatronus removed his fingers to give him a chance to respond, but all that left his mouth were moans and little begs to both stop and never stop.
His fragile frame tensed and his back arched as he screamed in overload. Megatronus gave him little relief. He got the briefest reprieve as Megatronus pulled out, only to flip him and press his small frame into the wet, streaky glass, holding him by his slick thighs. His hands nearly wrapped around them. He pounded into him, his pleasured face on full display for the raucous audience.
“Oh, yes…” Needing only one hand to hold such a small mech aloft afforded Megatronus the luxury of spreading his hand across his ventrum. He felt his impressive length push out his plating. Arousal had his spike throbbing, urging him to fuck him harder.
“You’re squeezing me so tightly,” Megatronus growled into his audial. “Tell me how good my spike feels.”
His prize moaned, clawing desperately at the glass. “S-so good, oh…” He shuddered out a ventilation. “Fuck me harder.”
“Say my name and I will give you all that you desire.” Megatronus smiled wickedly against his condensation-coated plating. He slowed his thrusts, no matter how much the pheromones urged his hips forward. “I want to hear it.”
“Your name?”
“Surely you know my name.” Megatronus slid his hand down, rubbing at his tempting little node. “The infamous gladiator of Kaon. The mech who has slaughtered every bot he’s faced and bred so many more. And how lucky are you to be the next?”
When all that came out of the mech’s mouth were pleasured noises, Megatronus used every ounce of willpower he possessed to stop with just the tip of his spike inside of him. He shook from the effort. Already he was addicted to the way his protoform bulged obscenely. He would have been happy to only have this valve to ravish for the rest of his life.
“You know my name,” Megatronus insisted. “All I want is to hear it in your voice. Only then will you have me.”
“Please, oh, please, I need your spike!”
“And I want nothing more than to give it to you, my pet.” Megatronus dug his fingers into his plating. Every atom of his being screamed at him to plunge into his absolutely dripping valve. Each agonizing moment that passed had the puddle beneath him spreading and the crowd growing more restless, calling for Megatronus to ruin him.
“Please!”
“I'll give you a hint… It starts with an ‘M.’”
He wiggled in his grip, clearly trying to take more of his spike. His vents fully opened, spilling his heat scent throughout the dais and nearly breaking Megatronus’ processor. It wouldn't be long before he, too, would be fully at the mercy of his base coding.
“Four syllables,” Megatronus growled out.
He whimpered, begging pathetically.
“You know it.” Megatronus’ voice dropped so deep it bordered on threatening. “Say it. Now.”
“Megatronus!” the mech screamed. Further screaming ripped from his voicebox as his spike plunged deep within him, bursting through to his forge. He blacked out from the sudden roughness or he bluescreened from an overload. Either way, he went limp in Megatronus’ arms.
Without breaking stride, Megatronus lowered his temptation back onto the cushioned floor. He tried to be gentle with him. He needed him back online. Wetting his spike in a near lifeless pleasure drone never brought him any satisfaction. He needed some pretty, mewling creature beneath him, intent on pleasing him. He needed the flare of their optics in overload. He needed the shakes wracking their poor, spent frames.
He needed them moaning his name.
Thankfully, his prize came to before Megatronus spilled his next precious load inside of him. He could feel just how much transfluid sloshed around in his gestation tank with every stroke. He had more than enough to be kindled, but that was the paltry offering of a lesser mech.
The mech had learned his place in his short time offline. He couldn't stop repeating Megatronus’ name, his tone thick with desire.
“That's right,” Megatronus praised. “You only exist to pleasure me.” He closed his optics and basked in the adoration of the crowd and his prize. All but one voice that reached his audials demanded his breeding. The last begged for it.
“Spark me, spark me, spark me!”
Megatronus spanked him, much to the delight of their audience. He leaned down over the shaking mech, whispering, “My apologies… I misheard you. But I will oblige that request.”
“Spank me again,” the shivering mess beneath him requested weakly.
“Oh?” Megatronus slowed slightly, stroking down his curvaceous plating. He enjoyed every little reaction he got until he cupped his tender aft. “Kinky little thing, are you?” He spanked him again.
His lover came again, and he spanked him until the black paint transfer could be seen from the stands.
“I wonder what else you'd like… maybe something like this?” He wrapped the glimmering, golden fabric around his hand, yanking it back. His prize gasped as his spoiler was wrenched back. The clips strained and scraped along what looked to be sensitive plating. Erogenous , too. But, as predicted, the fabric tore from Megatronus’ raw strength, sending the pretty thing back to the cushioned floor.
“Was that good, my pet?”
“Yes, yes!” he readily screamed.
“Pity,” Megatronus said to himself. “Well, let’s not let this go to waste.” Stopping deep within him, he tied the strip around the mech’s neck, holding the other end of the makeshift leash. “I’ll have something made specially for you so that everyone will know who you belong to. But for now…”
His flame gasped as he tugged, lifting him by his neck and forcing his cooling fans to redline. He choked out Megatronus’ name, mangled to near incomprehension.
“I bet you like that,” Megatronus growled. “Pretty little mechs like you always want this treatment.”
He didn’t need to tell him whether he enjoyed it. The relentless stream of pheromones spilling from his open vents spoke volumes. Megatronus wouldn’t be surprised if there were fans fragging in the stands from the scent of him.
“Yes, I’ll get you a nice collar,” Megatronus purred into his audial. He held him tight to his frame, one hand splayed across his belly to feel his armour flex against his palm with every thrust. “The tag will have my name carved into it just in case you try to slip away from me. Not that you’ll ever want to leave.”
His prize wheezed, his optics rolling back into his helm as he overloaded again, setting off Megatronus, too. Now his belly had a gentle swell whether he was inside of him or not.
Hopefully the cameras could see just how full he was.
“I can't wait to see you heavy with my brood,” Megatronus said, rubbing the curve. “You won't be able to get out of berth. Not that you'd want to… after all, I'll need to keep feeding our sparkling with all the transfluid you can handle.”
“Fuck!” the mech gasped out when Megatronus finally released him. He caught himself on his hands, but his arms immediately buckled.
“Such language.” Megatronus fucked a few more swear words from his fiery package. “And they call me uncouth.”
“Harder! Deeper! Oh, knock me up!”
A predatory growl left Megatronus’ throat. He got his hands on the speedster's hips and gave him everything he had. His ventilations grew ragged as he pounded into his hot, wet valve. Nearly the entirety of his aft was covered in lubricant, so he nearly missed his other clenching hole on full display.
Swiping up some of the thick globules, he easily slipped his thumb into his port. His prize keened and his calipers cycled down when he climaxed again. He came down, shaking violently, most of his strength depleted.
“You'll need a few more loads,” Megatronus said gruffly.
“F-fill me, please.” Megatronus almost didn't hear those words.
Megatronus shifted him along his shaft, his thumb anchored in his tight aft. Through the fog of his pheromones, Megatronus wondered how much this fiery little thing had gotten up there. A large part of him wished to be the first to get his spike in there. It might take a while to work him up to that, but, oh… it would be worth it.
“I'll make you mine,” Megatronus promised him as he dumped another round of transfluid into his overstuffed forge. By now his forge opening was wide open, welcoming his spike deep within him.
Ever so carefully, Megatronus flipped him, keeping his aft up so nothing would spill out. He grabbed him behind the knees and pushed until they touched the floor, getting that much deeper inside of him.
He must have broken the poor thing's processor, too. His optics couldn't focus and he could only manage sounds that might have been his attempt at speech. He couldn't even cling to him anymore. His hands lay at his side, limp.
Megatronus focused on his own pleasure. He'd clearly sated his prize's heat coding, but he wasn't done. Not yet.
Bursting at the seams, Megatronus could only give him short, hard thrusts to keep himself in his forge. Just one more round of transfluid. All of it needed to get inside. All of it.
Megatronus closed his optics and imagined him still moaning his name and begging for more. Always more. Need more.
“Soon, my pet,” he whispered, promising the mech in his processor. “I will never leave you unsatisfied.”
Grunting as he chased his overload, Megatronus forgot to be careful and didn't see the transfluid gushing out around his spike. He gave a few last, hard thrusts, depositing the last bit of his seed that he had to give.
He panted, basking in the afterglow and the deafening roar of the crowd. After giving him everything he had, Megatronus wanted to do nothing more than fall into recharge right there, with his prize nestled in his arms. But they'd had their show. Now, this vision was for him and him alone.
Every other claim he’d taken, he’d left where he’d found them, full of his transfluid and too tired—too sated— to move. He didn’t know what happened to them. Whether they were cared for or simply dumped back wherever they’d found them. And he didn’t care. This mech, though… This mech, he lifted him like the precious cargo he was, holding him close to his chest and keeping his hips raised so none of his precious offering would spill from his used valve. He manually closed his panels, too. Just in case.
“I think I'll keep you,” he decided out loud.
Megatronus toyed with his bottom lip, soft against his worn thumb. He stared into dim and unfocused azure optics, marvelling in how beautiful they were on a mere guttermech. His garish paintjob was strangely endearing, but that was an easy fix. Yes… he could mold him to be the perfect mate.