Galvatron awoke on his back on the berth, which was unusual. He never recharged on his back, and as he shifted, he remembered why - he was balanced uncomfortably on his tail sight. He tried to roll over and immediately discovered the two reasons why he couldn't.
The first was that his hands were shackled above him. The second was that Hot Rod was straddling his hips.
"Prime," Galvatron snarled. "What is the meaning of this? Where is Cyclonus?"
"Cyclonus is in the repair bay," Hot Rod told him, unsmiling. "And the meaning of this is a lesson I think you need to learn."
Galvatron jerked at the shackles, and his optics flashed in fury when they held. Hot Rod's mouth quirked. "They're not the maximum-security manacles," he told him. "You could break them if you worked at it. But if you do, I'll leave."
"You're in no position to threaten me!" Galvatron hissed - more out of habit than anything, since Hot Rod was certainly in the perfect position to threaten him.
By Hot Rod's laugh, it seemed he knew that too. "And you," he said, holding out a hand, "need to learn what helplessness feels like." There was a minute flash as the Autobot accessed his subspace compartment; a multitailed flogger appeared in his palm, trailing lengths of some organic threadlike substance.
"You wouldn't dare hit me!" Galvatron jerked against the shackles again, and thought he felt them give way just a little. He paused as Hot Rod stroked his fingers through the strands.
"You're right, I wouldn't. But this isn't for hitting. It's just for..." he flicked it out and held it over Galvatron's chest - "...sensation play." He dragged the ends over Galvatron's chest and torso.
Galvatron gasped sharply as his sensors shivered under the flogger's touch. Hot Rod grinned for the first time then, and stroked it along his sides, and Galvatron yelped and twisted away.
"Nnngh - stop! It - hh- it hahahahahatickles!"
"Begging for mercy already, Lord Galvatron?" Hot Rod flicked the ends over his plating and grinned when Galvatron jumped in response. "I'd hoped you could last a little longer."
"Y-y-you! I'll - hahaha - get you for this! NyaaahahahaHot Rod!"
My apologies for... everything. -_-
The first was that his hands were shackled above him. The second was that Hot Rod was straddling his hips.
"Prime," Galvatron snarled. "What is the meaning of this? Where is Cyclonus?"
"Cyclonus is in the repair bay," Hot Rod told him, unsmiling. "And the meaning of this is a lesson I think you need to learn."
Galvatron jerked at the shackles, and his optics flashed in fury when they held. Hot Rod's mouth quirked. "They're not the maximum-security manacles," he told him. "You could break them if you worked at it. But if you do, I'll leave."
"You're in no position to threaten me!" Galvatron hissed - more out of habit than anything, since Hot Rod was certainly in the perfect position to threaten him.
By Hot Rod's laugh, it seemed he knew that too. "And you," he said, holding out a hand, "need to learn what helplessness feels like." There was a minute flash as the Autobot accessed his subspace compartment; a multitailed flogger appeared in his palm, trailing lengths of some organic threadlike substance.
"You wouldn't dare hit me!" Galvatron jerked against the shackles again, and thought he felt them give way just a little. He paused as Hot Rod stroked his fingers through the strands.
"You're right, I wouldn't. But this isn't for hitting. It's just for..." he flicked it out and held it over Galvatron's chest - "...sensation play." He dragged the ends over Galvatron's chest and torso.
Galvatron gasped sharply as his sensors shivered under the flogger's touch. Hot Rod grinned for the first time then, and stroked it along his sides, and Galvatron yelped and twisted away.
"Nnngh - stop! It - hh- it hahahahahatickles!"
"Begging for mercy already, Lord Galvatron?" Hot Rod flicked the ends over his plating and grinned when Galvatron jumped in response. "I'd hoped you could last a little longer."
"Y-y-you! I'll - hahaha - get you for this! NyaaahahahaHot Rod!"