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“How do you address me, soldier?” Kup shouted in Hot Rod’s faceplate, testing him. They were in front of many other Autobots in the yard, so he smirked, figuring he finally had the brat beat.
“I wouldn’t address you at all, if I had my way.”
The whispering of other bots made Kup bite into his cy-gar, breaking it in half between his denta. “What did you just say to me, kid?” His voice was dangerously ragged. “Shut up! Let him keep digging his grave!” Kup snapped, looking back to Hot Rod.
“Just because you’re all dried up, doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me.” Hot Rod still smirked, getting Kup all worked up.
He laughed, getting dragged by the arm back through the base. All the way towards a certain room; Kup’s quarters. He only slightly grew concerned.
Kup locked the door behind them, going over to where Hot Rod casually stood in the middle. “What is your safe word?” He demanded, staring to the wiring he had resting nearby in a drawer.
“‘Sir’,” Hot Rod replied coolly, earning a punch to his faceplate. He felt his cheek, finding Kup purposefully held back.
“Smartaft,” Kup snarled to himself, despite a part of him getting more hot over it. Something about a young stud pushing his buttons, and then receiving their just punishment got his engine revving.
Pulling the wire taut, Kup nodding to the hook nearby. “Alright, stand under that. I’m not dragging your worthless hide, if I don’t have to.”
Hot Rod vented unevenly, feeling the wiring get his arms folded up at his sides, then his knees bent so his pedes were stuck behind his legs. “You think I’m going to stop, just because you’re a pervert? I’ll tell all of them what you’re doing to me.”
“Good. Let’s see if they believe you. I hate you, and you’re strutting around like some whore. Bet they’ll believe you seduced me, and took advantage of this old mech. You’re nothing, Hot Rod.” Kup did enjoy taking Hot Rod down a peg, and especially stringing the wire up, and tying it so the mech swung crotch height to him. “Oh no, you little slut. What ever will you do?”
Flushing at being degraded, Hot Rod tried to stifle a moan at Kup massaging his helm beneath rough thumbs. “Don’t be rough there. I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Take out your minuscule spike?” Kup looked under Hot Rod, laughing at the normal-sized spike pressurizing from its housing. “What is that?” He reached forward to flick it, then twist at it. “Good thing I don’t have to take this in my valve. Think I’d fall right into recharge, not feeling a thing.” He squeezed the head, until Hot Rod cried out in pain. “Awe, was that too much?”
Letting go, Kup let his own spike pressurize. “Now this is a real spike. Genuine, classic metal.” He shoved it against Hot Rod’s cheek. “Be a good mech, and give it a kiss. It’s the least you could do.”
Hot Rod pretended to resist, letting it be dragged on his cheek. “I don’t care what it’s made of. I don’t suck old spike.”
“That’s too bad. Punishment isn’t supposed to be fun.” Kup grabbed the helm tightly, using his other servo to shove the spike down Hot Rod’s throat.
Hot Rod made an expression of anger, before it melted from his natural skills as a spike sucker. He knew Kup loved the glossy optics, and eager application of the pistons in his jaw working the spike.
“That’s it. Learn your place.” Kup thrust into Hot Rod’s intake, groaning at the drool running down his crotch from the nose being right against it. “That’s my good mech,” he broke character with a softer tone, stroking over Hot Rod’s helm, groaning at the vigor he was given from such a needy bot. “Kup’s gonna fill ya right up. Does my good mech want that?” He watched the wriggling in the binds, barking out a laugh. “Okay, you can go back to being a little brat now. Hard to choose which side of you gets me going more, truth be told.”
Kup knelt down to give Hot Rod a sloppy kiss, which was mostly his lover’s fault. Spit was everywhere down the chin. “Don’t make me feel bad about hitting you, now.” He noticed a little dent in the cheek.
“Scrap, okay,” Kup whispered, having to rub his forehelm. “I’m seeing this through, even if I’m gonna have make up for that.”
Kup stood behind Hot Rod, placing his spike at the entrance. “How many times do I have to teach you this lesson?”
Shoving inside, Hot Rod’s calipers pressed down at the sudden intrusion. Allowing the illusion of a tight valve that had never been broken open once. “Primus! You’re so big.”
Trying to not let it go to his helm, Kup leaned forward, beginning to thrust. “Of course I am. Look at me. Turning a stud into a pleasure-bot.”
Hot Rod cried out each rough thrust, feeling his wires tugging at his armor. “It’s so much! I can hardly stand it. How much stronger you are than me.”
Kup shook his helm. What a ham. “Am I? That’s too bad, because unless you show me some respect, you get punished all night. No recharge for you.”
“Like you could last more than one round, without having to sit down,” mumbled Hot Rod, crying out at being spanked. He shook his aft, loudly taking each hit.
“And you can’t sit down at all.” Kup squeezed the sore thighs, pounding into his lover with abandon. He enjoyed every noise, despite some being played up for the game.
“I’m going to overload, Kup!” Hot Rod waited for Kup to lean forward, before groaning out, “Please overload in me, sir. I really want every drop.”
Grunting, Kup fell forward, cumming hard inside Hot Rod’s warm valve. They took the thin hook down with them, but barely felt it hit their chassis.
Venting through his hard afterglow, Kup slumped down to the side off of Hot Rod. “Primus, kid, I’m going to need a medic. Why did you have to do that last part to me?”
Hot Rod scooted over, smirking. “You get a little too much from that. It’s why I don’t really say it to you.”
“Oh, is that why?” Kup finally sat up, pulling out a little knife to cut Hot Rod free.
Splaying out his limbs, Hot Rod rested half of his body on Kup. “That’s right. I wouldn’t want you to get pressurized during drills, sir.” He stroked his servo along Kup’s chassis, licking along the audial. “You’d have to put it in me, wouldn’t you, sir? Right in front of every Autobot there?”
Kup swallowed, hating himself for not being done with Hot Rod. He stroked a thigh, unable to look at his younger partner.
“Can I be in charge now, sir?” Hot Rod wouldn’t stop, smiling as he began using the crook of his knee to stroke off Kup. “I’m sure you won’t regret it.”
Kup leaked along the joint, unable to resist the temptation of a speedster. His words had come true.