HOME | DD

Description
With Megatron, it's always extreme. You get little warning before it happens, but a single glance he throws at you is enough to make you giddy with anticipation. Strictly speaking, there is no need in interface, the fuel shortage is long behind you, and nowadays even the lowest grunt in decepticon army has a spare cube of energon in his subspace. But Megatron still wants to be the one to bring energon and life into your lines. Your emotions swell at the thought.

So when he catches you alone and shoves you into the wall, your transfueling lines are ready and all oiled up. His connector is like him - as prominent and unbending as his master. He all but tears your cod piece open and thrusts in and it's a tight fit up to the point of bending your interfacing array, but not enough to damage it. He moves and transforms his nodes inside you. You're torn between pain and want and you grind your dentas not to voice protest. It doesn't take long. Once he plugged into your main line and established connection sweet energon enriched with his unique blend of chemical modifiers and processors flows into your system. You allow yourself a single soft moan to show him how much you like this rich, potent concoction and his tightened grip around your waist is the only response to that.

He tastes like nothing else. Unstable heavy metals and pure power and a hint of something elusive and so dangerous that your fuelling system glitches up with warnings. Your filters kick into action on top drive. You're not fully compatible, but that will do. The surge of power is overwhelming. You're overcharged and high on the feeling of might. Is that how it feels to be him? The reality slips away. You're overloaded. You hold on to his solid frame as your subroutines have to restart one by one. He holds you up, his grip on our armor tightening until your plates dent in, and you are not a lightweight civvie. But you don't mind. In fact.. Oh, never let me go!

He startles and stares at you and you realize with horror you have said that aloud.

That is out of line. That is so out of line that he will have to punish you now. You freeze, waiting for the inevitable strike.

His grip on your plates eases up a bit, but his hands stay on you and his helm presses to yours. You rather feel than see his smile and that is all the answer you need.

Description
With Megatron, it's always extreme. You get little warning before it happens, but a single glance he throws at you is enough to make you giddy with anticipation. Strictly speaking, there is no need in interface, the fuel shortage is long behind you, and nowadays even the lowest grunt in decepticon army has a spare cube of energon in his subspace. But Megatron still wants to be the one to bring energon and life into your lines. Your emotions swell at the thought.

So when he catches you alone and shoves you into the wall, your transfueling lines are ready and all oiled up. His connector is like him - as prominent and unbending as his master. He all but tears your cod piece open and thrusts in and it's a tight fit up to the point of bending your interfacing array, but not enough to damage it. He moves and transforms his nodes inside you. You're torn between pain and want and you grind your dentas not to voice protest. It doesn't take long. Once he plugged into your main line and established connection sweet energon enriched with his unique blend of chemical modifiers and processors flows into your system. You allow yourself a single soft moan to show him how much you like this rich, potent concoction and his tightened grip around your waist is the only response to that.

He tastes like nothing else. Unstable heavy metals and pure power and a hint of something elusive and so dangerous that your fuelling system glitches up with warnings. Your filters kick into action on top drive. You're not fully compatible, but that will do. The surge of power is overwhelming. You're overcharged and high on the feeling of might. Is that how it feels to be him? The reality slips away. You're overloaded. You hold on to his solid frame as your subroutines have to restart one by one. He holds you up, his grip on our armor tightening until your plates dent in, and you are not a lightweight civvie. But you don't mind. In fact.. Oh, never let me go!

He startles and stares at you and you realize with horror you have said that aloud.

That is out of line. That is so out of line that he will have to punish you now. You freeze, waiting for the inevitable strike.

His grip on your plates eases up a bit, but his hands stay on you and his helm presses to yours. You rather feel than see his smile and that is all the answer you need.