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The asteroid floated in silence in neutral territory, a jagged piece of rock rich in unrefined crystalline energon deposits. The stars shone cold and distant over the grayish surface, with no atmosphere to dampen sound. Starscream had chosen this place precisely for its isolation: far from Autobot patrols and Decepticon bases where Megatron might watch him. He explored with his wings deployed, moving with that elegant arrogance that characterized him, his sensors sweeping the terrain in search of pure crystals he could use for his... ambitious personal projects.
"Pathetic. Not a single guard. Not a single decent trap," he murmured to himself with a crooked smile. "This place is practically mine."
He rounded a rocky outcrop and stopped dead.
There, kneeling beside a group of crystalline formations emitting a soft bluish glow, was Perceptor. The Autobot scientist had his tools extended: one arm equipped with a precision microscope, the other taking readings with a handheld scanner. His posture was concentrated, almost vulnerable. He wasn't carrying heavy weaponry; just his research instruments. His white and red plating contrasted with the gray of the ground, and his blue optics shone with that quiet intensity that Starscream always found... irritatingly attractive.
Starscream felt an immediate wave of excitement. It wasn't just the opportunity to capture an Autobot. It was him. The brightest and most reserved lab rat of the entire enemy faction.
"Well, well..." Starscream purred, slowly descending to land a few meters away. His wings arched theatrically, catching the light from the crystals. "If it isn't the famous Perceptor, lost in his little world of data and equations. Are you so bored on the Ark that you have to come play with rocks in the middle of nowhere?"
Perceptor tensed visibly. His sensors registered the Decepticon's presence and, for a second, his fans stuttered slightly. He rose slowly, storing his tools with precise and careful movements, as if trying to maintain his composure at all costs. It wasn't fear... or at least not entirely. It was that analytical shyness that characterized him: evaluate first, act later.
"Starscream," he said in a low and controlled voice, almost soft. "I wasn't expecting company. This sector is cataloged as neutral. My readings indicate there are no high-value strategic resources for the Decepticons. If you're only looking for energon, there are more accessible deposits three kilometers to the north."
Starscream let out a loud and melodious laugh, taking another step closer. His red optics shone with pure amusement.
"Oh, how adorable. Are you already trying to negotiate your way out with geological data? So reserved... so polite. I love that about you, Perceptor. Always so analytical, always measuring every variable before making a mistake." He slowly ran his tongue over his lips with deliberate slowness. "Tell me, do you also analyze everything with such care when you're alone in your laboratory? Or is there some... more interesting variable that makes you lose that precious composure?"
Perceptor took a step back, his chest plates contracting a little more than necessary. His optics avoided looking directly at Starscream's deployed wings.
"Your flirting is unnecessary and predictable. My scanners have already registered your energy signature. If you try anything, the Autobots..."
"Won't come," Starscream interrupted, activating his modified null-ray with a low and threatening hum. "At least not anytime soon. And by the time they do..." He extended a hand and fired. A translucent containment field expanded from the ground around Perceptor, forming a perfect crystal dome, light but impenetrable. The scientist was trapped inside a space of barely six meters in diameter, enough to move but not to transform or escape.
Perceptor placed a hand on the inner surface of the dome. His touch was careful, analyzing the molecular structure even in that situation.
"An expandable crystal containment field... interesting modification. The resonance frequency is high. It will take me approximately 47 minutes to find a way to destabilize it from the inside."
Starscream approached until he was pressed against the outside of the dome, placing a hand on the crystal right in front of Perceptor's face. He smiled with that shameless vanity, tilting his head.
"47 minutes? How optimistic. I'd say in less than ten you'll already be begging for something else, my dear specimen." His voice dropped to a playful and flirtatious tone. "Look at yourself in there... so small, so contained. Like an insect under a microscope. Does it excite you to know that now you're mine to examine?"
Perceptor swallowed with difficulty, his fans accelerating barely perceptibly. He kept his voice low and analytical, but there was a slight tremor in it.
"Your behavior is illogical. The capture gives you no tactical advantage whatsoever. If what you're looking for is information, I can provide you with readings on the crystals. There's no need for... this."
Starscream laughed softly, circling the dome with slow and deliberate steps, admiring the Autobot's body from all angles.
"Oh, but it is necessary. Because seeing how you try to maintain that facade of a shy and reserved scientist while I look at you... is delicious. Tell me, Perceptor, how long has it been since someone really touched you? Since someone took you out of those books and equations and made you feel something real?" He stopped in front of him again, pressing his chassis against the crystal. "I bet you stay awake in your laboratory, analyzing data... and wondering what it would feel like to let go."
Perceptor's cheeks heated visibly, a slight blue blush running across his plates. He looked away, analyzing the floor of the dome instead of the Decepticon.
"Your ego is... disproportionate. I have no interest in... unnecessary interfaces. And I seriously doubt that your system can handle a stable connection with someone who is not a simple data vector for your delusions of grandeur."
That was the trigger.
Starscream narrowed his eyes, but his smile became sharper, more playful. He tapped the crystal lightly with a claw.
"You doubt me? How bold, little mouse." His voice became hoarse and promising. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't even remember your designation. I'm going to make that brilliant mind of yours melt until you can only babble about frequencies and overloads."
Perceptor fell silent, processing. His fans were spinning faster now, betraying him. Starscream noticed and let out a victorious laugh.
"There it is... that little increase in your internal temperature. So reserved, but your chassis doesn't know how to lie." He opened a panel at the base of the dome and slipped inside with feline grace, sealing it again behind him. The space was narrow. His wings brushed against the crystal walls and then partially deployed, enveloping Perceptor in a red and warm cage.
The scientist backed up until his back touched the curved wall. His blue optics rose with a mix of caution and contained curiosity.
"Starscream... this is unnecessary. We can negotiate..."
"Shh," whispered the Decepticon, placing a finger under Perceptor's chin and lifting his face. "No negotiations, my shy genius. Just you, me, and this pretty cage where no one can interrupt us."
His expert claws, precise but cruel in their delicacy, descended down Perceptor's chassis. He opened the lower plates with deliberate slowness, revealing the panel protecting the scientist's spike. Perceptor let out a small choked sound, almost shy, turning his head to the side as the spike began to extend on its own, thick, long, and already glistening with an initial layer of synthetic lubricant.
"I-it's not necessary to examine me in this way..." whispered Perceptor, his analytical voice cracking slightly on the syllables. His fans spun faster, betraying his contained excitement.
Starscream smiled with pure arrogance, opening his own lower panel with an ostentatious gesture. His valve was exposed: already wet, hot and throbbing, the metallic lips glistening with natural lubricant. He positioned himself directly over Perceptor's erect spike, rubbing the thick head against his entrance with slow and provocative movements.
"Look at you... so big and so pathetically shy at the same time," Starscream mocked in a honeyed voice. "A scientific genius reduced to a simple throbbing spike. How long had you been hiding this in your laboratory, useless specimen? Analyzing your own spike in private while pretending to be all logic and restraint?"
He descended with a fluid and deep movement. Perceptor's spike opened him inch by inch, stretching the hot and tight walls of his valve with an obscenely sticky sound. Fresh lubricant gushed around the junction, dripping down Starscream's thighs and splashing the crystal floor. Starscream threw his head back with an exaggerated and vain moan, his wings pressing harder around Perceptor's body to completely immobilize him.
"Ahhh... yes... so thick," he purred, lowering until their hips met and the spike was buried to the base inside him. "Do you feel that, lab rat? Your useless spike is completely inside a Decepticon. And you haven't even moved a single joint."
Perceptor gasped, his hands instinctively grabbing the wings that restrained him. His optics narrowed, trying to process the sensory overload.
"F-friction frequency... elevated... internal pressure is... 47% above normal parameters..." he babbled, his reserved and shy voice cracking as Starscream began to move.
The Decepticon rode with a shameless and playful rhythm at first, rising and falling on the spike with wide and controlled movements. Each descent produced a wet sticky slap, lubricant and transfluid mixing in viscous strands that connected their bodies. Starscream's wings acted as living shackles: they pressed Perceptor's chassis against the floor, restrained his arms and kept his hips pinned, forcing him to receive each thrust without being able to push upward.
"Pathetic," Starscream laughed, gradually accelerating. His hips rotated in provocative circles, deliberately squeezing his valve around the spike to maximize friction. "So brilliant in your analyses and so easy to break. Is this the best Autobot science can offer? A spike that doesn't even know how to use itself?"
Perceptor trembled beneath him, his fans spinning out of control. He tried to maintain his sharp intelligence, but the words came out more and more broken.
"Overload... imminent... interface protocols... are not designed for... this intensity... Starscream, I... the saturation of sensory data is... ah—"
Starscream leaned forward, his wings enveloping him even more like a restrictive and warm blanket. He nibbled the edge of Perceptor's lips while accelerating the pace, fucking the spike with savage and playful force.
"'Ah'? Is that all you have, useless?" he humiliated him with a flirtatious and cruel voice. "Come on, genius. Tell me your designation. Or have you already forgotten it among so much babbling? You're just my toy now, little mouse. A renowned Autobot scientist reduced to being just a hot spike to use."
He increased the speed, riding with shameless brutality. The sound inside the dome was pure sticky chaos: slap, slap, slap wet and constant, lubricant dripping abundantly and forming small puddles beneath them. Perceptor's spike pulsed violently inside the tight valve, stretched and used without mercy.
Perceptor completely lost his composure. His optics unfocused, his normally calm and analytical voice turned into incoherent moans and senseless babbling.
"F-frequency... too high... interface saturated... I can't... process... overload... Starscream—! The equation... breaks... spike... too... deep... illogical... ah—! Total overload—!"
Starscream let out a victorious and arrogant laugh, not stopping his hips for a second. His wings closed even tighter, the tips digging slightly into Perceptor's sides to remind him of his complete restriction.
"That's it, little mouse. Babble for me like the useless lab rat you are. Where did that sharp intellect go? Where is the great Perceptor now? Just a hot and desperate spike that can't even form a complete sentence," he mocked mercilessly, his voice playful and vain. "Look at yourself trembling beneath me. So shy in the field and so desperate to be ridden. Are all Autobots this easy or just you, my little broken genius?"
Perceptor reached the limit with a choked and trembling cry that reverberated inside the dome. His spike pulsed with brutal force inside Starscream's valve, releasing hot and thick jets of fluid that filled the Decepticon to overflowing. The excess gushed around the junction in sticky cascades, dripping profusely down Starscream's thighs and spreading in shiny puddles on the crystal. The Autobot convulsed, his limbs trembling under the restrictive wings.
"N-no... more... saturation... corrupted data... Perceptor... designation... overload... please—! F-frequency... illogical... I can't... remember... ahhh—!"
Starscream continued riding through the overload, prolonging the pleasure with cruel and playful movements. He squeezed his valve around the sensitive spike, milking it to the last drop while laughing softly.
"What a shame..." he purred against Perceptor's audio receptor. "An elite scientist reduced to this. Babbling nonsense while you fill me like a good useless little mouse. Do you feel how everything is dripping? So sticky... so pathetic. You only serve to be my personal spike, shy mouse."
Finally, when Perceptor was left exhausted, trembling and murmuring residual incoherences ("frequency... broken... interface... saturated..."), Starscream rose slowly. The spike slid out of his valve with a long and wet sound, followed by a torrent of mixed lubricant and transfluid that splashed the scientist's chest. Starscream looked at the undone Autobot with a vain and satisfied smile, running a claw over his own still-throbbing valve.
"This is barely the beginning, my dear Perceptor..." he whispered with dangerous flirtatiousness.
Perceptor lay on the floor, fans spinning erratically, optics unfocused and body covered in sticky fluids. His mind tried to restart, but Starscream's wings still kept him partially restrained, reminding him of his position.
Starscream stayed for a moment contemplating his work with a vain and satisfied smile. Perceptor lay undone on the crystal floor, his chassis covered in sticky strands of lubricant and fluids that shone under the diffuse light of the external crystals. His fans spun erratically, and his blue optics were still unfocused, trying to restart some analytical protocol that no longer responded coherently.
"What a pathetic image," Starscream purred with a flirtatious and playful voice. He knelt again over the scientist, his red wings enveloping him once more like a warm and restrictive cage. The sharp tips pressed gently against Perceptor's sides, preventing any significant movement. "My little lab rat... so reserved, so shy, and look at you now. All filled with the fluids from my valve and dripping like a defective hose."
Perceptor let out a low and shy sound, trying to turn his head. His voice came out broken, still affected by the previous overload.
"Systems... overloaded... partial restart... Starscream, the probability of a second cycle is... illogical... my protocols..."
Starscream let out a loud and melodious laugh, leaning down to gently bite the edge of his neck. His claws descended to the Autobot's spike, which was still semi-erect and shiny with the mixed fluids.
"Illogical? Everything about you is illogical now, useless. That sharp intellect you boasted about has turned into static." He stroked it with provocative slowness, extending the spike again with expert movements. "But don't worry, my little mouse. I'm going to ride you again. I want to see you break completely."
He positioned himself over him once more and descended with an exaggerated and vain moan. The spike entered easily into his already lubricated and sensitive valve, producing a wet and sticky sound that reverberated inside the dome. Fresh lubricant gushed around the junction, dripping abundantly down Starscream's thighs and adding to the puddles that already covered the floor.
"Ahhh... yes... still so thick," he mocked while beginning to ride with a slow and deep rhythm at first, savoring every inch. "Do you feel how I squeeze you, little mouse? Your useless spike is made for this. For filling my valve until you're a pathetic mess."
Perceptor gasped heavily, his hands grabbing the wings that kept him pinned to the floor. His fans accelerated again, and his analytical voice cracked almost immediately.
"Friction... excessive... internal temperature has risen 62%... I can't... process... Starscream, please..."
"Please what?" Starscream accelerated the pace, riding harder and more playfully, his hips rotating in cruel circles that squeezed his valve around the sensitive spike. "Please stop? Or please harder, little mouse? Admit it. You love being under me, reduced to a simple toy. So brilliant in your analyses and so desperate when I use you."
The wings closed tighter, completely enveloping Perceptor's torso, restraining him like a living prison. The warm membranes pressed against his chassis, preventing him from arching or escaping each descending thrust. The sound was pure sticky chaos: constant wet slap, viscous strands of lubricant connecting their bodies with each rise and fall.
Perceptor completely lost control. His babbling became incoherent, his analytical intelligence shattered under the verbal humiliation and overwhelming pleasure.
"Overload... second phase... corrupted data... spike... saturated... frequency... breaking... ah—! Starscream— illogical... too... deep... I can't... remember... equations... everything... white... overload—!"
"That's it, my weak little mouse," Starscream laughed mercilessly, riding with shameless savagery. "Babble more. Tell me what's left of that great scientist. Nothing? Just a pathetic spike that won't stop cumming inside me? What a shame for the Autobots. Their best analyst reduced to this... moaning and trembling under a valve-seeker."
Perceptor convulsed violently under the wings. His spike pulsed with force inside Starscream's valve, releasing another thick and hot torrent of fluids that filled the Decepticon to overflowing. The excess gushed in sticky cascades, dripping profusely everywhere and creating a shiny puddle beneath them. Starscream continued moving through the second overload, milking every drop with cruel and playful movements, prolonging the pleasure until Perceptor was completely undone, murmuring senseless incoherences:
"...frequency... broken... interface... collapsed... Perceptor... designation... lost... saturation... ahh... more... no... illogical..."
Starscream finally slowed down, but did not rise. He leaned over the exhausted Autobot, licking a line of fluid from his chassis with an arrogant smile.
"Pathetic... adorably pathetic," he whispered against his audio receptor. "So shy and reserved, and now look at you. Covered in fluids, trembling, unable to form a single coherent sentence. You're mine now, specimen."
At that precise moment, his long-range sensors picked up multiple energy signatures rapidly approaching the asteroid. Autobots. At least half a dozen, scanning the area in search of Perceptor. Starscream narrowed his red optics, annoyed by the interruption.
"Tsk. How untimely," he murmured, but his tone remained playful. "It seems your little friends are coming to rescue you, little mouse. What a shame... I was just starting to really have fun."
Perceptor barely reacted, still in a state of residual overload, fans spinning weakly. Starscream rose with amusement, the spike sliding out of his valve with a long and obscenely sticky sound. A torrent of mixed lubricant fell onto the scientist's chest. The Decepticon sealed his panel, although it still dripped slightly, and opened the dome.
Without delicacy but with certain playful efficiency, he lifted Perceptor into his arms. The Autobot was heavy, but Starscream used his jets to facilitate transport. He carried him out of the dome, which dematerialized behind them, and flew low toward a series of nearby rocky formations.
He found a deep and narrow cave among the crystals, hidden from the main surface. The interior was dark, cool, with mineral deposits that would slightly interfere with scanners. Starscream deposited Perceptor against a wall, kneeling in front of him one last time.
"Look at you... all marked and full of me," he purred flirtatiously, running a claw over the scientist's sticky chassis. "Lubricant dripping from your spike, red wings marked on your torso... You're going to smell like me for hours, little mouse. When your friends find you, what will you tell them? That the great Perceptor let himself be ridden by a Decepticon until he forgot his own designation?"
Perceptor tried to focus his optics. His voice came out weak and still broken:
"Starscream... the Autobots... are going to... detect..."
"Shhh," Starscream placed a finger over his lips, smiling playfully. "I'll leave you here, hidden and safe. Like the good specimen you are. Don't move too much... or you might overload again remembering how I broke you." He leaned down and gently bit his lower lip one last time. "The next time I find you alone... there will be no interruptions. I'm going to fuck you until that brilliant mind is just permanent static."
He stood up, deployed his wings theatrically and activated his jets. Before leaving, he looked over his shoulder with a shameless smile.
"Until next time, my useless analytical little mouse. Try not to miss me too much."
Starscream took off in an elegant arc, moving away from the asteroid at high speed. His sensors confirmed that the Autobots were approaching the dome area, but the cave was hidden enough and the crystals interfered sufficiently to buy time.
As he flew, Starscream let out a low and satisfied laugh, licking his lips. He still felt the sticky heat between his plates and the echo of Perceptor's incoherent babbling in his audio receptors. He would definitely come back for that shy little mouse.
In the cave, Perceptor was left alone, body exhausted, chassis covered in sticky evidence and mind struggling to restart. His fans spun slowly as he tried to analyze what had happened... and failed miserably, a slight blue blush tinting his plates as he remembered the red wings enveloping him and the playful voice humiliating him mercilessly.
The mission had ended very differently than expected.
If he told the Autobots that a winged one had attacked him, would they believe him?