Archive of Our Own ^beta

Schlk. Schlk. Schlk. Sounds of dull scratching echoed across a spacious corridor. Hot orange sparks rained from the long, razor-sharp talons of the scrawny silhouette they illuminated. Soon, a candle was lit thanks to those efforts, revealing the wanderer’s sharp, pointy features, and his dull, tired face. Starscream put that candle right in front of himself - onto the vanity table, illuminating the mirror with about a dozen more held in polished brass slots. He did not sit at the table, however. Instead, the seeker opted to stand whilst putting his uniform on: 

First and foremost - makeup. Simple, straight to the point. Thin, dark eyeliner and some corrections here and there. Scars masked, job well-done. Up next, pantaloons. Followed up quickly by white golfsocks on tight leather garters. Up next, the tights. Navy-blue, matching the smooth, formal maid’s gown. Adjusting the sleeves is always a little tricky - after all, Screamer’s not used to having cufflinks for a dress. Thankfully, there’s an illusion of a white formal shirt beneath, so some buttons are still prevalent in this outdated, antiquated uniform. 

The last few bits were, perhaps, the most degrading for the seeker: Thin white gloves, alongside a headdress and an apron. Starscream looked down upon these, no - he glared at them with seething resentment. And yet, after a deep, heavy sigh, the maid of dubious honor returned to his duties. The apron cinched his waist tightly enough for there to be a semblance of shape, the headdress - hid away the bed-mop of Starscream’s hair somewhat, and the gloves - well. They protected his new masters from those sharp talons of his. Thankfully, those came with padding, and were designed by him for him. Screamer scoffed at his shoewear, too; those heels were high, but they certainly weren’t red-bottoms. A maid can’t have anything nice in a ‘Bot household… Another heavy sigh oozed from his lips. 

It’s going to be a long night, and it’s only just begun. 

As the heels clacked against the creaking floorboards, Starscream contemplated his current position with a solemn face. Sure, the manor may be old and gathering dust in two days’ notice, and his new masters are young and bratty, yet… It certainly must be better than, say, standing a year-long tribunal like his old master once did. 

Scrap, not even he knows where Lord Megatron is now. Might have gone on an adventure like some of his brethren on that grand ship, or rotting away somewhere… Yep. With all the back pain and humiliation Screamer has to endure, his inner voice and his cowardice both agreed it was the better option than most. Besides a cushy job and a place to sleep, eat, and entertain himself, Starscream also had someone special taking care of him - or rather, him taking care of a special someone. 

“Ah- Pfah!” Screamer yowled. Poor seeker got so lost in thought he bumped into a wall! As well as the statue of Bee by the end of that long, dark corridor. As he threw all of his meager weight at it - the statue flinched, threatening to fall and shatter any second now. Struggling to prevent it, Starscream tensed up and pushed, his heels grinding into the floor and causing even more of a ruckus. All while that certain someone was watching him from a kitchenette’s corner. The hidden figure listened to him struggling, watched him strain his meager body in desperate attempts to keep himself out of trouble. And boy was that entertaining!

“Nrrgh… MMNGH! Why don’t you come over and help me?!” Starscream hissed, wheezing and gasping while the statue pressed down harder on his delicate spine. And to that, the burly figure chuckled out: 

“ Ho-hoh! Because it's a lot more fun to jus’ watch ya work!”

“Shh-shuddit, you’re too loud!” Screamer replied, worrisomely. Because of course, as any good servant - he hopes not to awaken his superiors. Though, it seems the seeker forgot they were not home for the entire weekend. Or rather, he wanted an excuse to shut the assailant down. Without a word, the other shadow stepped out of darkness, then helped Starscream get the statue back on the pedestal.

The maid of dubious honor’s huffs still roamed the hallway, in spite of his relief. “Pfeh, finally,” Starscream grumbled. His eyes were closed throughout the noble struggle, but the silhouette forced them open - with a brush against his bony cheek, no less. 

Wheeljack sure looked lively for such an early hour. His new leg in place, his face - as puke-inducingly smug as ever, and his own service outfit currently absent. In its place, there was merely a light-yellow bathrobe, which thankfully hid away most of his (presumably) naked body. Though, the warmth of his hand, the feel of it, was quite different. That is because a black glove of what feels and looks like goat-hide hugs his flesh as snug as it gets. The same thing could be said about the boots beneath, glossing in candlelight and reflecting the seeker’s surprised face. One which Starscream quickly hid away with a masque of not-caring. 

“...Well you’re up late,” he said, “ And you’re out of uniform. Great. You are just being a glutton for punishment now, Jackie, aren’t you?”

“Learnin’ from the best brats around these parts,” Wheeljack replied and pat the seeker’s back, “Naw, but really - what’s gotten you up so early?”

Screamer shuddered from that back-pat. Always the sensitive spots, that damned wrecker… Still, he straightened himself up with a proud huff and gave Wheeljack a literal cold shoulder: “If you have forgotten - we must fulfill our duties in the manor. This exonerating artwork here, for example, is rusty and dusty!”

Wheeljack, clearly, had no clue what was wrong with the statue Starscream almost knocked over. Still, for the sake of annoying his ol’ birdie, the wrecker stepped over, took a good look at it, and drew out a short conclusion: “It’s fine. You’re blowin’ things out of proportion, Screamer. ‘Sides that - aren’t we done for the week, anyway?”

“No!” Was the short answer, with Starscream’s adorable little hand-trembles below the waist growing stronger. “You could do better things than lounge around, you know,” he said. 

“Huh? Such as?”

“Such as, ehm…” Starscream paused. The kitchen was close by, so an example presented itself: “...Such as making food in advance for when Bumblebee and Smokescreen return! Work more now, work less in the future, mm? Mm?!”

To that, Wheeljack rolled his eyes and puffed a plume of hot air into the seeker’s face: “Psh. You’re overworkin’ yourself, Screamer. You think about things too much. Besides that, I have a little surprise prepared for ya…”

Expectantly, the seeker stepped back from the wrecker. Lo and behold, there’s going to be a revelation of something wacky! Classic Wheeljack, ugh. Though Starscream sure is mortified, in a good way, when that surprise unwraps itself: The wrecker’s robe was untied, and lazily dropped onto the floor. That, in turn, revealed a whole array of both impractical and kind of hot clothes… Namely on the upper half. Or the lack thereof, considering it’s just a criss-cross applesauce harness hugging both his chest and his pillowy belly. That’s one way to intimidate the poor flustered seeker - though, the elbow-length gloves and the tight breeches matching them finished the job, if not made it a little overkill. 

“Oh… E-Ehm. Wow. Now that’s a bit extra,” Screamer mumbled. His cheeks were growing pink with embarrassment as he found himself staring Jack down with obvious… Enticement. 

“Heh, so whadya think?” Wheeljack asked, casually sauntering up closer and taking a gentle grasp of his darling seeker’s cheeks. Those rough fingers showed great discipline and restraint, stroking the seeker’s battle-scarred hide rather delicately. That, in turn, only caused the birdie to flutter more. 

Starscream, surprisingly, was silent for a good while. He let the embarrassment wash over him, only to be replaced with the usual bile and snark: “Two questions, Jackie. One - what’s this fruity little number for? And two - did you blow out a month’s budget on all those, ah, straps and hides?”

Wheeljack chuckled and shrugged. He finally let go of Screamer’s face, even though it’s adorable to mush it - especially when he’s this uppity! “Nawh, Star! A month’s budget it ain’t,” he said, “But a bit of my savings? Yeah. And I remember ya whinin’ about me being a little too soft sometimes. So-”

“So what?” Starscream huffed, interrupting Jack with crossed arms and more hidden, flustered bitching.

“-Let me finish, darling. So! I’ve decided to try n’ be a bit more… Assertive~”  Wheeljack paused. “ Oh he’s really in it now, ” Screamer thought - only to be gently pressed into a wall right next to the statue the both of them saved. Jackie pressed himself forward and practically pinned the lanky seeker with his front. The outline of his endowment in the snugly-fit pants added even more spice to his silent affirmation of dominance. And after a long pause, the wrecker held a firmer stance and stared the seeker down, dumbfounded yet smug.

Psh. Classic Wheeljack. Though, admittedly, Starscream let that dramatic entrance play out just fine. He’s here for it, even if the seeker himself doesn’t wish to admit it. Yet. 

“Well - I appreciate the effort, Jackie, but! I have work to attend to,” Starscream said, carefully pushing Wheeljack away. His gloved hands pressed into the exposed and kinda hirsute chest, mushing at it for a few seconds more before weaseling away with a duster now in hand. Will the wrecker let it slide? Like hell he will! 

Being only a bit shorter than Screamer still let Jackie loom over him. So he did. “You need a break,” he said with a put-on stern voice. 

“And I said no,” the seeker replied, with more bile spat past his lips in the midst of it. Someone’s confrontational. 

Instead of accepting Starscream’s challenge right away, Jack loomed over the maid further, and whispered close to his ear: “ When was the last time you were loud, huh Star? When WAS the last time you were so tired ya shot blanks? ” 

The wrecker did not expect a response. The goal was entirely different here - and it was achieved; Starscream’s pointy ears perked up and his face was covered in a tomato-red blush again. Target discombobulated. Wheeljack then stretched his arms out, as if about to clasp a bearhug around his birdie: “C’mon. You know you want to come on over an’ put something just as snazzy on. Take my hand, babe!”

“I… Erm… Yeah… But only when-” Screamer stammered, struggling to find words as his line of bile was broken through. As per usual. 

Wheeljack, on the other hand, wasted no time on the flustered state of his darling bird. His burly, furred arms snatched the seeker by his waist and carefully hung Screamer over his shoulder. Now that was crude… But not entirely unwelcome. Still - as the wrecker carried his catch to the maid’s quarters, some heated dialogue broke out amid Starscream gently slamming Wheeljack’s back with his delicate fists:

“Y-You didn’t let me finish!”

“There’s no need for you to finish - sluggish excuses won’t do!”

“It wasn’t sluggish, I have work to do!”

“Not at the moment ya don’t, love~”

“Yes I do! And it’s buh-because-”

“Because you need a break. Now stop squirmin’ around, we aren’t even there yet!”

“Wheeljack! Put. Me. Down!!!”

“Sorry-not-sorry - no~”

“I said - put, me, DOWN!”

Another, much more powerful slam made Jack wheeze and bend. Seems like Screamer found a tender spot in the wrecker’s spine. Immediately shifting his face to concern, Starscream was about to mutter an “I’m sorry-” out… But Wheeljack simply picked himself up and carried on:

“Rrgh- Ay, pipe it down, will ya?!” The wrecker roared this time, aiming his hand for an unpleasant surprise. 

“I warned you, you dopey ratling! Put me down or I will ag- AOOWH!!!” 

What was that, you may ask? It was a loud, stinging cr-rack against Screamer’s lanky buttocks. A spank so powerful it made the seeker’s entire body ripple, his high-heeled legs - tremble, and his face - stuck in a long, surprised and somewhat-pained gasp. The birdie’s sensitive, alright. The rest of the way was in relative silence, with the occasional huff from Screamer and a quiet grunt from Wheeljack. The path to the maid's quarters wasn’t a long one - it was simply made longer by Jack, perhaps to demonstrate who’s in charge and simply… Carry Starscream around. It was always a fun pastime - especially when the latter’s feisty. 

A small door creaked like a warehouse barn. Wheeljack and Screamer made their way in. The wrecker smiled as the seeker took in the sight of  it being decked-out with goodies of various applications - namely of leather and metal, mind you. The maid of dubious honor was then tossed onto a bed, delicately so, with Wheeljack standing right in front of him. Now he’s looming over Star! And the latter grumbles, rubbing at his sore buttcheek through the thin fabric of his pants. A feisty hiss from Screamer turned into a whole minute-long staring contest. Dear Husband Jackie didn’t budge - because he was simply not there. For a damn good reason; there’s a brat in need of a handling right in front of him.  

“Turn over,” Wheeljack commanded with a stern voice. Starscream didn’t budge. At first he didn’t. Beneath the spiteful face, there was this recognizable glint of excitement. That, in turn, gave way to a cocky smirk on the delicate seeker’s face. He’s enjoying this, and so - gives Jackie the green light to push forward. A simple, clear response - one too obvious even for a trained brat like Screamer - followed suit: 

“...Make me!”

Challenge accepted. Smirking and sparkling in his eyes as much as Star did, Wheeljack quickly pounced onto the seeker and wrestled with him. Naturally, the wrecker’s body overpowered Screamer’s, and soon enough - Jack rested on his opponent’s back. As Starscream couldn’t use his claws, thanks to those damned gloves no doubt, disarming him was easy as pie. Wheeljack’s single hand was enough to hold both of Starscream’s lanky arms - which were still held together by their wrists while the wrecker reached for a pile of straps. An unnoticeable feature otherwise - until Jackie dearest hoisted his bird’s upper half with it! 

Jack worked swiftly, efficiently, yet carefully. He shifted his weight away from Screamer’s spine - half of it, at least. Though he also remained close, as close as it gets, and clutched the grumbling, struggling birdman in one arm while the other worked around the harness. It’s an act - and a good one at that. In order to feel justified in his rampant, shameful arousal, Starscream needed to show force. That he isn’t giving up that easily! And yet, he already did: 

The harness itself was a work of art - and evidently something Jackie himself could have made on the side. No overlapping budget spendings that concerned Screamer so much, whatsoever! And it worked just about as well as the wrecker’s burly arms; the centerpiece was, evidently, the strict, thick collar wrapped and buckled tight around Starscream’s neck. Four straps of identical thickness sprung downward - two at the front, next to the collarbones, and two at the back - right by the shoulders. Their job was to secure the shoulders and forearms, as well as outline that flat, luxury-laced chest. And they did just that! 

Sounds of belts creaking and buckles clanking made the seeker squirm around even more. Primus, it felt good - to be trampled. And yet the continued struggle, the mocking and playful resistance, were still there. This here bird isn’t broken yet! And still, the straps tighten, his back - arched, his chest - forced outward, and buckles - locked in place. The first part of it was just about done. The thin straps are set, forcing Screamer’s forearms back - now it’s time for heavier equipment: 

Thicker straps, also attached to that same pile, clipped the seeker’s arms. Snugly. So much so the palms could touch the elbows of another arm! And so, with the metallic sound of more buckles being locked tight - Screamer’s entire upper half was left pretty much helpless. Still, Starscream refused to stop fighting - even though he was practically pinned under Jackie’s weight, and the firm outline of his endowment sure felt tempting… No-no! He can’t give into the firm approach that easily! This isn’t how it works. So Screamer remained silent for the time being, waiting if Wheeljack’s going to back down or keep himself sturdy in the face of brathood.

“So! The way we’re going to do this is…” Jack broke the silence, “...I will need to know when you’re havin’ a bit too much fun - so I don’t hurt ya in a way ya don’t like. You, darlin’, have to pick a word I could understand - even if I’ll have to silence ya. So what’s it gonna be? Speak, speak up!” 

A careful nudge of Screamer’s side made the latter quack: “Agh- Gah!- Rrrnh… Damned buffoon!”

“Buffoon! That fits just right,” Wheeljack mused, and lifted his weight from Starscream’s body even further. Momentary relief, really, but it felt  so damn good…

Then - a pair of thick fingers hooked the seeker’s nose and craned his entire head upward. Starscream had no choice but to budge, opening up his mouth in an attempt to croak something out in protest. That was quickly halted by something thick, bulbous, and rather bland to taste. The smell of - you guessed it! - more leather, as well as the sound of clinking metal assaulted his senses once more; Wheeljack is muzzling him. Just like that. Nonchalantly, as if it’s meant to be! 

“Mmpfgh- NRGH!” Screamer bucked his hips and tried to kick back - only to get caught in a tighter grip. Even though Jackie didn’t make it hurt, not yet, his presence was there. Oppressively, the furred, burly arms adjusted the straps of that muzzle with a secret filling, causing more-than enough strain to the seeker’s cheeks, chin, and his psyche. The only thought on Starscream’s mind was: “If I can’t talk - how else can I counterattack?!” And no matter what clever scheme he tried to come up with - the maid of dubious honor here was stuck. For the only answer to that question was: Lay still. Let Jackie handle it.

“Settle down, will ya?” Wheeljack mused. This time, he simply laid on the seeker, pinning him down with his weight. The wrecker worked as a weighted blanket of sorts, his arms still clutching Starscream from back to front, while his own bottom half ground itself up against that lean, bony tush. At this point, the sir in question couldn’t help but grind his pelvis against the back of Starscream’s. The firm outline of his groin became even more apparent. And with that - Screamer’s struggles only intensified. 

Why is he always so damn helpless… And why does he have to enjoy it so much?!

Well that wasn’t true. Starscream wasn’t left defenseless against Wheeljack’s possessive, cheeky humping. As the hot breath continued hitting the back of his head, the seeker prepared for a defensive maneuver; even though his upper half was snug and pinned by Jackie, his lower half - the legs in particular - were left entirely unscathed. Without giving it much thought, Screamer quickly yanked his leg back, and, aiming it directly in the most vulnerable spot - kicked Wheeljack in the crotch with his very heel. His wheeze of agony and slump of (supposed) defeat was oh-so delicious! Screamer couldn’t help but laugh out loud into his muzzle: “Hm-hm-hmmh!!!”

The maid of lacking honor expected a volatile reaction. Something that’ll ensure he gets what he wants, while also putting Wheeljack in his place. He is the mere servant to this pillow princess! As intended… By Starscream. Which in itself meant the plan was flawed from the start. 

“ Hhhgh… Owh… Alright, birdie, foreplay’s over,” Wheeljack grumbled. Poor wrecker still strained from that heel-kick right into his Crown Jewels. Still, his arms were forceful enough to shift Screamer around  and lay him on his stomach across that leather-coated lap of his. One arm laid atop Starscream’s back like a concrete plate, while the other reached beneath the apron’s bow and the uniform’s top. A heavy hand firmly grasped the rim of Screamer’s pants, and yanked them downward along with the pantaloons. So powerfully, in fact, the seeker could hear a quiet kr-rip of a seam or two, forcing his head to turn and his eyes to widen at the sight of Wheeljack’s face. Primus, he’s terrifying! But so, so hot…

That same hand that ripped the pants off him was now raised up high. The cold face of indiscriminate punishment made Wheeljack look quite menacing - Starscream did not budge. No, really - he didn’t! He laid there, staring up at him with round, wide eyes, waiting for the hand to land on his pallid cheeks… But the strike did not come. 

“Eyes n’ face forward,” Wheeljack said. With such a cold and pressing demeanor, Screamer felt forced to oblige. Without any force applied to his head or neck, the scaroused seeker straightened his back out and turned his head forward again. Thus, he forced himself to stare at the ornate fresco at the other end of the room; an earthen angel falling down from the sky, it seems. How ironic. 

Star remained rather tense in the midst of it. The strike that never came was torture in and of itself! His stale muscles straining, his restraints - creaking from occasional shifts. Be it one side to the other or legitimate yanks. Wheeljack’s hand was still raised, as the adrenaline inside Screamer kicked his state from smugness into quiet panic. And yet, no matter how much he awaited the eventual spank… It never came through. At least not until he relaxed - which took him about a minute or so. Too frightened to look back, Starscream huffed and closed his eyes. When the whistle of air hit his ears - it was too late to tense up again:

“Mmfh- MMRRRMBFNF!!!” A louder scream wrung itself past the muzzle’s leather after a singular, loud slap of flesh against flesh. Indeed, Jackie took his glove off just to feel those pallid cheeks reddening under his rough tenderizing. Another one came through right afterward… Then another one. And another one. A barrage of assaults supported with appropriate, loud yowling which turned into mere whimpers a few seconds later. Naturally, Starscream was not just lying there, either - his arms were yanking back and forth in the harness’s tight grasp, all to no avail. While his legs were still kicking, his heels flying off in all directions. That, for sure, interrupted the tenderizing process…  And Wheeljack’s not going to tolerate this.

A leather-coated leg quickly wrapped itself around Screamer’s lanky, silky leggies of his own. Now that he was held in place properly, it’s much easier to aim the strikes exactly where it stings. Swat after swat after painful swat, the loud, muffled protests of the silver-tongued seeker were growing more desperate… And then - quieter, much more subtle. 

A strained face soon became loads more relaxed, bitter and salty tears of defeat contradicted with a blush and eyeroll of delight. Nothing compared to the sudden switch of pain into pleasure. Starscream is growing wet down there , and he can’t help but sob from all those conflicting feelings. He stopped kicking around - he simply laid there, and took the blissful stinging in. Star couldn’t hear, couldn’t see much, couldn’t think much. All there is to his meager resistance are sniffles and moans, alongside needy humps into Jackie’s hip. Now this here, was just adorable .

Wheeljack grinned, taking in the cute lil’ nature-mort right in front of him. Of course, Starscream’s efforts to be good did not go unnoticed - the hand lowered itself down and took a gentle grasp of both these, ah. Not-so-pale moons. 

“And there ya go… I guess you’re pretty much handled now, huh?” Wheeljack’s voice turned back to a familiar, sweeter tone. Warm breath hit Screamer’s ears and back of the head once more, as the wrecker leaned forward and planted a quick peck right about there. 

Such a familiar, odd, yet oh-so pleasant feeling washed over the seeker. There’s a certain kind of comfort in helplessness. In being unable to resist, no matter the safeword, the rough advances of someone more powerful. And while Jackie was gentle most of the time, the unbridled need oozing out of Screamer’s body and mind is a real testimony to just how much he loves it. 

Jack turned him onto his back, so that their eyes could meet. Starscream stared forward without a thought in his head for a few seconds more. He heard his partner clearly - but there was no answer to it. Not until a rough undergrope kicked some sense back into him: “MMGH!- Mhm! Mhm!” Screamer found himself squirming again, eyes shooting daggers and head desperately nodding along - much to the wrecker’s smugness and pleasure. 

The grip was there, lingering, for just a little longer. As Screamer writhed in Jackie’s that perpetual grip, the need to be let go grew all the sweeter. He’s already compliant, alright! It seems that the wrecker likes to watch him squirm. Can’t get enough of that, even. 

“Well, that for sure is enough tricks for ya,” the wrecker said, “Sorry if I’ve gone a bit too hard there, uh… Well ya didn’t muffle out th’ word, so whatever! Lemme ask you one more thing…” And so, a kiss was granted to the seeker’s cheek: “...Ya ready for your treat?~”

Starscream replied immediately and sharply, with a loud and profound “Mhm!” The dummy-like nods of his head suggested just how desperate he had gotten. If one wanted to crack his metaphorical skull open - all that pours out of it is pure desperation - a savage need catalyzed by the long-forgotten, twisted perception of pain and degradation as pleasure. For indeed - the ole’ seeker remains quite the glutton for punishment. 

The need is visible in his eyes, staring upward longingly, and cheeks, still moistened by tears and marked red by blush. No need for more words from Wheeljack - just a careful shift of his geared-up frame, so that Screamer gets pinned under his weight again. 

Smug as ever, Wheeljack used his powerful arms to hoist Starscream’s legs onto his shoulders. Then, he slowly, but surely, pressed forward further, craning those same legs back and bending Screamer’s old bones in ways even the seeker forgot they could. A gentle shift evolves into a press… The mating press. The cocky confidence of an experienced bottom suddenly shifted to slight fear. Doubts, even. It’s not that Starscream would call it off at this point in time, not that he could, but the feeling of being folded made his heart pound. 

“Uff… Mmhomf-”

“Shhh,” Jack hushed Star down, with his hand and his voice. Not a word more. The seeker’s supposed to simply give into it, and he did. The sudden creaking of more leather, as well as a faint, metallic zzzp- were the only noises allowed at this point. Some shuffling on the bed followed suit - the pressing wrecker adjusted himself. Starscream didn’t dare look down - his gaze pinned to Wheeljack’s. There’s no need for him to glance down, however, since he knows the size, the shape, the length, and the girth of a tool about to obliterate him. 

Instead of quick and precise, decisive action, the wrecker savored rubbing up against Starscream’s folds. Foreplay’s over, he said, cheekily. Ugh! It was at this point that Screamer’s arms were getting tired of their restraints, too, so there’s a barrage of needy whines and shifts from one side to the other making it harder to push in. Huffing and clutching the seeker tightly in his arms, Wheeljack leaned fully forward at this point, taking a hold of Star’s hand and peppering the side of his collared neck in kisses. The rough-yet-careful pining and grinding of his is driving the seeker to a different end of pain and pleasure’s little slider bar - he’s so damn horny it almost hurts!

Then, at long last - the blissful, rough shove makes the seeker tremble. Nothing like the feeling of an entire shaft being forced and pushed inside. Screamer’s front stretched to its limits… There was no moan. No scream from the stars. Just a nostril-flaring whistle-gasp, and a blank stare of sharp pupils which turns into heart-eyes after the wrecker’s first pull back. After that - another shove. Rough, merciless. Uncaring, almost. Forcing the seeker to adapt himself and to bend under both strong will and animalistic need displayed by his beloved partner. And so, it goes on - in harsh, piledriving thrusts forward. They are meant not just to turn Screamer’s entire front into putty, no; those punishing slam-downs are currently demolishing the poor birdie’s pelvis.

A minute or so into his “treat,” Starscream also realized something; not only did Wheeljack not provide any lube, even spit, for his rough entrance, he… Primus, he forgot protection! “Whrrgh… Whmmbfdff!- Bffhrrn! Bffhrrn!!!” Screamer yelled, trying to warn the wrecker about this big, big issue. But it’s way too late - Jackie’s too far gone, he’s far too into Star’s squawking to notice the safeword. 

“Rrrgh! Rrrrnf!” The wrecker growled akin to a feral beast, still clutching the trembling seeker close. Then, his chompers sunk into his birdie’s neck, causing all the more blissful discomfort. Now it felt just like the old times: 

Krrk! Krrk! Krrk! - the bed was creaking so much Screamer’s pleasure-numbed mind thought it’ll collapse under his and Jackie’s weight. Though it clearly wasn’t his biggest concern at the moment, Star still looked around and tried to wiggle himself out of Wheeljack’s grip… Only to be grasped and groped all the more possessively. Those bed-breaking thrusts never stopped, either, so Starscream was stuck pinned with both restraints and Jackie’s sole mass, unable to do much outside of his constant whining. A strand of drool ran down from the muzzle. The huffs and growls grew all the more incessant. 

He’s so desperate. So helpless. Snug as a feather-bound bug. So pleased with his current state, and…

“RRRRAAAAAHHGH!!!” - Wheeljack roared, the loud noise rumbling across wooden walls. Tears and drool streamed down the seeker’s face, as the wrecker painted it white - alongside his apron-bound belly and chest. Starscream’s juices of desperation ran down his folds nice and slow, like tree-sap or honey. He waited for this, for so damn long. He craved it, even - and then his climax was held back, only for the seeker himself to quiver in its self-ruination. Shutting his eyes, the seeker’s few humps pretty much wet the bed with those same juices, as his incessant squirming finally, finally made him squirt. Sweet release, and yet - he’s still bound… Not for long. 

Thank Primus Jackie’s pullout game is good. The wrecker’s mind switches from primal bliss to cold thinking once more - his hands reach for the harness and the muzzle. Simultaneously, the spring-based locks are undone, and both restraints are undone in a matter of seconds. Stuck laying in a pool of mixed seed and his own drool, Screamer took deep, laborious breaths as the now less-dressed wrecker clutched him close. From the side, mind you. No more bad-guy Wheeljack, he’s spent the entire drive on that attitude adjustment alone. 

“...Well uh. How did you… Like that?” Wheeljack asked. The lack of confidence in his voice was almost-cute. 

Starscream, on the other hand, silently placed a hand over his lips. The seeker smiled, replying: “Shh… You hush down this time. You did well. There is nothing to worry about, I’m… Hhh- I haven’t felt this good in forever! ”

That sure made the wrecker smile. Both he and the seeker then laid still and silent for a minute. Then, Wheeljack turned to Starscream again:

“Still. Sorry I’m not that good at this whole cruel master sorta thing! An’ sorry I snatched ya off-duty, an’ whatnot…” Jack’s blushing. He can’t help it! His burly arm swings back and rubs at the rear of his head. “...Ya good, right?”

“Psh, of course I am!” Screamer replied, “As I said - it’s been a while since I’ve felt so, ah. Full and fulfilled. And you may be a giant, goofy softball of a creature, but!” Starscream then leaned in, planting a quick peck on Wheeljack’s cheek: “For your efforts, and for putting me in my place - for that, I am most grateful~”

The two manservants laughed it off for a while. Still nude and laying in stained sheets, Wheeljack got up with Screamer still clinging onto his side, and yanked himself out of those big, scary leather-garments. Holding his birdie close and tight, his warm, smug grin was brought to light again:

“Welp! Since neither of us are goin’ down or doin’ anythin’ - how about we go shower, then go for, mm. Seconds? Thirds?”

“Until morning? Pfeh-heh-heh! Sure, Jackie, sure… But don’t you forget the rubbers this time!”

“Read my mind there, Star. Promise not to, already got ‘em close by.”

“Good! Now carry me, my legs still ache from your hands, you dopey gorilla!”

“Sure, sure, but stop whinin’ next to my ear ‘er I’ll get the muzzle again!”

“Psh! Hmn.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought…”

And so, the manor wasn’t cleaned, the sheets remained stained, and no work was done until Master Bumblebee’s arrival. The End…?