Transformers Prime: The Road Back Home

Nemesis

A/N: THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER IS FOR VERY MATURE PEOPLE ONLY, unless you feel adventurous.

THIS INVOLVES ADULT SCENES, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. Thank you for your cooperation.

Flashback on the Nemesis, Date and Time Unknown

A femme lay on the floor of a small room, chained to a wall by both of her wrists. She was attempting to recharge, the week had been a little full. She would have been described as beautiful if not for her current physical state. She was unable to move much, her body was losing muscle mass quickly. She had overlapping wounds on her murky green and blue armour, some of which were still leaking. The Decepticon's refused to keep her healthy, she didn't have the answers they wanted so they originally were going to kill her off, but Megatron quickly changed plans. He was going to let her slowly die, and while she was still online he would use her body at his own pleasure. The Decepticon leader liked to call her his 'pet'. When he intended on using her during the day cycle he would order troopers into her room to put a collar that was connected to a long, thin chain around her neck, quickly alerting her to get into her role as his 'pet'.

The femme didn't know how much time had gone by, but it was definitely more than a few solar cycles. She learned that disobeying the Leader was far from a good idea therefore she learned to do a few things that would not only please him, but help him finish faster so she wouldn't prolong her suffering for the day.

It was practically the middle of the night and the femme lay in recharge, trying to recover from the events of the day and prepare for the events of the next. Her systems onlined when she felt something clasp around her neck, her spark rate increasing immediately. For a moment she thought that the servos and digits she felt were of a troopers but she was wrong, she recognized the hungry touch, she recognized the sharp venting and the fans. Her systems were barely online, but she felt her thighs immediately grow slick with her own fluids. The warmonger demanded that she kept her interface plate open at all times and they had removed her armour, although it never left the small room she sat in.

"Sit up, pet." She heard the growl in her audio receptors, the appendage pressing hard against her backstruts, fluid already sputtering from the tip. She did immediately as she was commanded, positioning herself onto her knees. Megatron's sword suddenly pressed against the back of her neck, just below her collar. She felt as he applied pressure and the femme grit her dentas as the mech slid the sword across her frame, watching out of the corner of her optic as her precious and dwindling supply of energon fell to the floor, splashing onto the Decepticon's knee.

"Stay." He commanded again, getting to his pedes and moving toward a drawer that was hidden in the wall. The device clicked open with just a simple touch and he pulled out chains and two thick, metal bars. He pulled out a few more devices and closed the drawer, quickly getting to work. Most of the time he would have his troops do the hanging and the tying and the securing but this was presently happening in the dead of night, and Megatron intended this for his own pleasure. Megatron unchained her servos, and the femme still did not move, despite the open door that would take her out of the room, something she had never done before, She knew better than to attempt to escape. The mech had her hold her arms out, palms facing the floor as he secured the metal bar between her arms, forcing them to separate and not allowing her elbows to bend. He chained the ends of the bars again, then suspended her just so the tips of her pedes could barely touch the floor. He did the same with her ankles, placing the separation bar between them and securing it in place before suspending her legs as well. Megatron lowered her suspended frame just a bit so that their hips could touch. The mech's digits were already pressing into her moist valve, drawing a cry from her. The war leader leaned over the femme's body, his dermas pressing against her audio receptors, growling words into the processors.