Pain and Servitude

Chapter 3

I know that it's in the tags, but I'll post additional warning here: This chapter contains depictions of rape.

Knock Out tried to shrink away from the blue bot, but the vice grip Smokescreen had on his waist and wrist didn't allow him to do so. A small whimper escaped his throat at the realization that he was trapped.

Smokescreen's grin widened as he came to the same conclusion, his optics already roaming appreciatively over the red frame. A yelp tore from the medic's vocalizer as the rookie grabbed him by neck and pushed him up against the wall, servos instantly beginning to wander over the perfect frame, dipping into seams and pulling on wires with greed.

Knock Out struggled, processor in a panic as he tried to think of something, anything, to make Smokescreen stop. He knew this was coming, had known it from the beginning, and dreaded it.

When the rookie pressed even closer, he kicked out, but Smokescreen easily evaded the blow . More than that, it seemed to amuse the bot as he shoved one leg between Knock Out's thighs, enjoying the look of absolute terror on those pristine faceplates.

Suddenly, he took a step back and without the support of his frame the medic collapsed to the floor, looking up at him in shock.

Lowering himself to one knee, Smokescreen cupped Knock Out's face, digit swiping almost lightly over his lip plates, a mockery of a lover's caress.

"Get on the berth" He growled, his tone leaving no argument. The rookie reached out and unhooked the chain from the collar. He'd use it for another purpose later on.

When he looked back at the 'con, Knock Out still hadn't budged. A frown passed over the silver faceplates. "I said:Get. On. The. Berth." He hissed, anger rising with each second.

In a rare act of courage Knock Out spat in his face.

A resounding wham broke the silence that had momentarily fallen between them as Smokescreen's fist collided with the medic 's helm. Knock Out let out a cry at the stinging pain as he was sent to the floor due to the force of the blow, sobs rising up in his chest as he cradled a servo over the side of his face. Even without looking in the mirror, he knew that would leave a nasty scuff.

Still dazed from the hit, he didn't fight when Smokescreen lifted him by his neck, hauling him to the other room and practically throwing him onto the berth. Before Knock Out could even blink, the autobot was over him, servos pinning his wrists to the berth and knee joints parting his thighs.

The medic's struggles grew more desperate as he heard the unmistakable hiss of the bot's interface panel opening, spike swiftly pressurizing and already leaking transfluid.

Smokescreen released one of his wrists only to pin both of them with one servo above his helm, making Knock Out whimper in slight pain as his arm cables were stretched taught.

With one servo free, Smokescreen wasted no time using it as he tapped a digit against Knock Out's valve panel. "Open" He commanded, his other servo tightening over the medic's wrists to the point of denting.

Knock Out glared at the form above him, refusing to give in to the fear and hopelessness and pain that was threatening to take over him.

To his utter confusion though, the autobot smirked. That was the only warning he got before his collar discharged, electricity traveling through his lines, making him scream out loud for the first time that night.

The rookie's smirk widened and he leaned forward, his faceplates almost touching the slave's. "I'll ask again: Open." When Knock Out didn't react, he tutted, servo clamping even tighter around his wrists. "You don't want another shock, do you?"