- I'm going to apologize beforehand. I'm boring, alright? I'm sure that to the normal eye, I'm hard to spot, and that most do not know who I am. To start, my name is Steve. I’m your average Eradicon, and if you ask me, I’m good at what I do. I’m still alive, aren’t I? That counts as “Good”. I have a secret that I’m about to tell you. You fleshies have ridiculously short life spans and a tendency to die at the drop of a hat, so I believe it shouldn’t get out to anybody important if I tell you.
- I am in love with Commander Starscream. While you might find something like this drab and mundane, I happen to have my spark set on romancing him. It may be unlikely to become a reality, but I have no greater wish than to wrap my arms around him and hear him say that he thinks the same about me. Today is quite a special day, as I’ll be spending most of it around the Commander. I’m exited.
- Today I'm on maintenance duty. Some nasty stuff recently went on in the main room of the ship, so I and a few others have to fix it. Lucky for us, the damage hadn't been very great. One of the panels had a large dent and a tear in the metal. The whole panel wouldn't have to be replaced, but we would have to fix some wiring on the inside, along with replacing the metal on the outside with something new. I’ve offered to take up the job of fixing the wiring. I enjoy doing things with my hands that require me to be delicate, it helps me think.
- Fighting your own, what a waste of time. It's nothing but an embarrassment to your superiors. It would fill me with shame to have to waste my Commander's time specifically to punish me. No matter how much I fantasize, I can only dream of such a poor situation turning intimate. Back on topic, two Troopers such as myself had gotten into a fight here, and were properly disposed of. Such a waste. As usual, someone knocks me out of thinking, and asks me to hand them a tool. I need to be careful with these wires; I might just cause a shortage if I don't connect them properly. You don't need to worry, I've done this before. My responsibility comes far beyond my thinking and opinions; I can't impress the Commander with my thoughts alone.
- Anyway, we've been trained well. Strict punishment has turned most of us into perfect, passive soldiers that do what they’re told, excepting some duds such as these two. When will the Commander get here? I hear that he has work to do around this time of day, where is he? I hope he’s alright, and that he isn’t sick or anything like that. I would be devastated to know that I wouldn’t get to spend as much time with my Commander. I would have to fight the urge to go see if he’s alright.
- We start to turn towards the doorway once we hear something coming, sort of a scuffle from the hallway outside. It sounds like a fight, but it keeps coming closer and becoming more audible. As if on cue, I hear something that I can only recognize as the Commander, who is apparently being dragged through the hall by something large. We hear someone boom for him to shut up, a voice that we can easily connect to Megatron. We do our best to get back to work as the doors open, or at least I do. It would only embarrass the Commander further to know that I’m watching him be punished.
- Megatron lumbered in the room. He stopped for a few seconds (I presume that he was inspecting I and the others) then went about his business. The Commander stayed silent, except for a few sounds of pained struggling. “Hey, you.” None of us had expected to be noticed, but we stood to attention anyway. All four of us looked at Megatron expectantly. “You, there in the middle, go get it for me.” He ordered, motioning at me. I looked questioningly at an older friend of mine, who made a few movements with his hands. “You know, ah…” It hit me what he was gesturing. “Oh, that. It’s in one of the store rooms, right?” I responded. He nodded. I looked back to the Commander, whose arm was in the vile clutches of Megatron’s. He was staring at the back of the room, with the hand of his other arm clutching his captor’s wrist. Probably trying to keep from getting his arm ripped off.
- Oh commander, I would take your place in a heartbeat. I would undergo any torture Megatron had ready for me, all to see you escape this situation unharmed. Why did you have to be dealt such horrible cards, placed with someone so horrible and beastly as your so-called “Master”? He takes your beauty all for granted. He doesn’t know what a wonderful person you are, Commander. Surely if he could see what I see in you, you wouldn’t get such ghastly treatment. I’m sure if everyone seen you the way I did, you’d be so loved that you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. I’ll never change the way I see you, Commander.
- There isn’t any time to make an entire love letter, though. (As if my words do my glorious Commander justice anyway.). I knew what Megatron wanted, and I would have to get it for him quickly, lest he get impatient and make my Commander’s punishment worse. I rushed out of the room (Though not quick enough to be suspicious) and made my way to one of the many storage rooms on the Nemesis.
- I remember going there only once. It’s where simple things are stored that do not have much place in a military environment. Little items that keep the crew busy and entertained in the few moments that they have time off to themselves, you know how it is. The higher-ups have a special storage room just for them. They very rarely ask soldiers such as myself to get things for them, and I’m sort of glad for that. The last time I was there, I was asked to get some files for Soundwave. I couldn’t open them, but I got bad feelings from them just by carrying them around. In short; there was information on an earth creature known to most as “Murderous Mary”, what could be considered a piece of “Old earth music” marked by BPM (79.41), information on an earth phenomenon called “Hypnagogia”, and various footage from earth dating a bit less than a century back. Whatever he planned to use that information for, I’ll never know. I don’t want to ask.
- I punched some codes in and searched around the room. I started to get a bit antsy, bumping into crates and boxes once or twice. I eventually found a small case, much to my relief. I clutched it in my claws and flipped up the latch, opening it to reveal a riding crop. It was just enough to fit Megatron’s large hands, just as big and fearsome as most things Megatron-related. Way back when I was in training, I and the others used to get “Surprise inspections” with this very riding crop. I thought that I had seen the last of it. I don’t want to get near it, or even hold it. It stung like the Pit. When he had the crop in his hands, he was king. Anyone that didn’t think of him as an absolute symbol of power would get a smack, and I guarantee you that nobody on this ship wants that. I feel that by bringing this to Megatron, I might as well be using it on the Commander myself. I’m so sorry, Commander.
- I had to hurry back. The sooner I brought him his crop; the sooner the Commander’s punishment would be over with. I made my way back to the main room, hoping with my entire Spark that Megatron hadn’t gotten impatient. He didn’t seem outraged by the wait. He probably sensed that it wouldn’t be long before he could take everything all out on the Commander, all of that barbaric rage and hate being dished out on someone that he knows is better than he is. If I could hate him to death, he’d be long dead. The Commander watches me walk up with the beastly crop in my hands, filled with a similar sense of chilling dread that I’m feeling. I want to save him. I want to tell him that it’s alright; he doesn’t have to feel such pain. I want to gently touch all over his shoulders and his back and his cockpit, soothing him into a feeling of security from the monster that currently holds him captive. I can’t, and it makes me feel an anger and sadness that I can’t quite put into words. I offer Megatron the crop, who snatches it out of my hands. I wordlessly get back to work.
- In the next few minutes, our situation is made all the worse. Megatron momentarily releases the Commander, ordering him to put his palms flat on the wall. The Commander tries to say something that will change his master’s mind, but his efforts are all in vain. He and Megatron struggle for a while until he’s trapped once again, both his wrists held by a cruel hand that makes both of his seem small. He forces the Commander’s wrists against the wall, moving him so that his legs are spread and his aft is sticking out. Judging by the look I’ve seen on his face from a few glances, he’s going to try and get through this humiliating punishment with as much dignity as he can. Don’t worry Commander; I’ll be cheering you on. I won’t think any less of you. Seeing you in such a position might strike….Certain feelings in me, but I hold tenaciously to my respect for you.
- Everyone in the room but Megatron flinches as he tests the crop against his arm, the sound ringing throughout the room. “Are you ready, Starscream?” He asks, eagerly waiting for the green light to degrade his SIC. The Commander responds with a solemn “Yes, Master.”. I try my best to ignore the scene. I roughly nudge one of my partners, whose optics are transfixed on them. I was looking in the right direction to notice Megatron giving us a look before he starts. The slagger wants us to see what’s about to happen. He knows that we’re trying hard not to watch.
- It all starts with one firm swat and a hiss. I hear the light tapping of the Commander moving his legs, trying to get into a more comfortable position. He has no time before the blows rain down on his legs, forcing a sound of frustrated pain out of him. Good. He’s holding up well, I think. After a glance, it appears that he’s keeping his position, legs spread and aft out. I’m unable to block out all the noises that he’s making. He’s trying so hard not to cry out, not to embarrass himself in front of I and the others. Each unforgiving swat echoes throughout the room, and it feels like a hammer raging down on my very spark.
- He gives a weak cry of pain, unable to hold it in any longer. It feels like my spark has somehow dropped to my stomach, giving me a warm feeling of pity. Oh my Commander, what has he done to you? Embarrassing you in front of everyone…He doesn’t deserve to live. Megatron refuses to let up, seemingly getting even angrier with each hit. The Commander keeps holding on, though. You go, Commander. He wants to hear you cry out in pain, he wants to see you humiliated. Don’t give him that pleasure, Commander, don’t. You’re better than that, you’re stronger. You won’t lose to something like this.
- I catch another one of my partners staring again. This time, I sense more than just interest. I nudge him. “Hey. Heyyyy.” I whisper, nudging him again. “Stop. You want to get caught looking?”. He looks at me as if he had completely forgotten our duty for a minute or two. He shakes his head. “Sorry, it’s just…It’s just so hard not to look.” He notes. “I mean, you ever check out those legs? He’s got better legs than a femme! Man, if he wasn’t so fraggin’ ugly from the waist up...” This time he’s nudged by someone else and told to shush. If I believed in fighting my comrades, I’d show him ugly. Heh, yeah, I’d kick his aft real good. But this time, I think he’s right. It’s getting hard not to notice. The Commander is starting to sound desperate. This fight wasn’t fair to begin with, Megatron is much stronger.
- I managed to catch another glance, this time I caught the Commander’s eye. He gave us a look of frustration, almost as if praying that we would disappear. I’m so sorry that I’m making you feel so embarrassed, Commander. I really am. If I could, I’d have the floor open up and swallow me whole. I’m so sorry. His face finally twists into one of pain. He looks up at the ceiling and lets out a yell. Megatron seems pleased.
- He starts to plead for his master to wait, to ease up and let him rest. His legs are shaking and quivering with the terrible pain of the crop. It’s beating the paint right off of his thighs and backside, everyone on the ship will know what happened. Megatron refuses to listen. His pleads break down into screams, unable to bear what his master is dishing out any longer. I’m starting to have trouble working. I’ve never been this close to the Commander when he’s taken a beating, much less one so terrible. I silently plead, hoping that through some sort of telepathy, I can reach Megatron’s mind. Please, please stop. I’ll do anything, just stop. Seeing my Commander like this gives me so many feelings, it hurts my chest and torments my mind like some sort of cruel parasite.
- The minutes start to draw out. The wires that I so perfectly worked on earlier started to seem like an endless mess that would never be fixed. I wanted to run and take my Commander with me. The others have started to shamelessly play audience to the scene, unwaveringly watching my Commander get the daylights beat out of him like some child that’s just been sparked. I can’t nudge and scold all of them, especially when my superior from before is looking on. His chest rose has started to rise and fall at an excited pace, the evil perversity of the act in front of him taking a toll. I’m unable to take it anymore. I turn my head and watch with more intensity. It only makes it worse.
- My lovely, strong Commander that takes my breath away in the heat of battle (Or most any time, really) is twisting in Megatron’s grasp. He tries to somehow escape the blows, but the crop mercilessly assaults him no matter how much he struggles. Upon closer inspection, one or two tears have slowly made their way down his face. He’s become almost unintelligible with his screaming, doing nothing but pleading his master over and over to stop. This does nothing to aid Megatron’s anger or soften his punishment.
- I try the best that I can to block out the whole thing, but I can’t stop watching. My eyes are transfixed. I silently mourn for my Commander. If only I could save him, if only I could stop something like this from happening. Oh, if only I could wipe away his tears and hold him to my chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around me and rest from his hard existence for a moment or two. My claws clench into fists. I have to fight just to stop myself from attempting some sort of suicide mission. I feel one of my partner’s claws run up my thigh, and I shoo it away. I’m in no mood.
- The Commander goes limp, his body passively taking the blows like an abused child. He’s shaking. Megatron starts to slow down; hopefully his arm has gotten tired. He drops the riding crop on the floor and gives the Commander a quick swat with his hand. He drops the Commander immediately after, the sound of tired metal crashing to the floor. “Starsceam.” He says gruffly, calmly. “In less than an hour, meet me in my room. Bring the crop with you, I’m not finished.”. He doesn’t seem care if the Commander responds. He gives a half-a-second smile at the devastated look on his second’s face, and walks out.
- The Commander lays there for a bit, his eyes meeting nothing in particular. I make my way to him, my hand out. “Commander. Commander Starsceam. Are you……Are you ok?” I nervously ask. I’m talking to him, I’m actually doing it. He weakly starts to get up, rubbing one of his sore thighs carefully. He takes one look at me and roughly hits me. It isn’t enough to really hurt, but enough to lightly push me back. “You!” He seems enraged. “You…You get away from me!”. He grabs the riding crop and makes his way out.
- “Well, let’s get back to work.” My friend says simply. It’s clear that the others have chosen to ignore all that they’ve seen. I won’t ever forget what I’ve seen. Commander, why won’t you let me help you? All I want to do is love you, and you just push me away. I’ll make myself known someday; he’ll know that someone out there loves him. Worry not Commander. Even if I can’t be there for you now, I’ll always be there for you in spirit. Please know that you’re loved. Even if you don’t quite understand now, I’ll show it to you someday. I’ll make it clear. You’re loved Commander, cross my spark and hope to die.
That one day that I did maintenance and the Commander hit me
a guest Jun 21st, 2011 689 Never
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