Part 8🥀🩶

Part 8🥀🩶

The mech beneath her groaned in a way that made her feel unwell. He was a peculiar frame type for an upper caste, squat and rather rotund, which made his mobility (both generally speaking and intimately) limited. Considering this, she was made to sit atop him, staring down with thinly veiled disgust as he writhed beneath her practiced motions. As though servicing him wasn’t bad enough, he was loud, obnoxiously so.

In the past, she’d simply slipped into the recesses of her processor, recalling pleasurable moments shared between her and her lover. Now, the memories made it worse, knowing there would be no new intimacies to be had and cherished, to be called upon in times of need.

Another groan. Her tanks twisted.

‘Shut up.’

Why couldn’t they have just taken her away when they’d found her? Scrapped her, too? Both she and her Star, together in oblivion.

“That’s so good.”

‘Shut up!’

Her facade slipped, lip components curling back to reveal her derma in a derisive snarl. The look didn’t deter him. In fact he seemed to read it as a sign of her impending overload, making an effort to lift his hips from the berth to meet her downward stroke. He all but howled at the connection.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut Up!”

“I beg your pardon?!”

Her optics focused on his face, which was twisted up into an affronted frown. Oh… had she said that out loud?

“Why you- how dare you speak to me that way, you impertinent whore!”

Her spark stammered in her chassis, surprise not something she was used to feeling. She wasn’t usually so careless, but with everything that had happened, she had become easily distracted. A violent beating was certain at this point - she’d just been given a warning, after all.

Wait… perhaps… perhaps if her crime was egregious enough… they would have no choice but to terminate her. They could be one again, in the only way left to them. She looked away from the blustery mech – still spewing threats and indignities – to a figure carved from precious ore that sat invitingly on the table next to them. Surely… that would be heavy enough to do the job.

She reached over, wrapping her digits around the base and swiftly hitting him across the faceplate. The strike was jarring, sending vibration up her arm as it made contact. It shut him up, and sent a spray of bright blue energon across the berth next to his helm. He spluttered, wailing in alarm. No one would hear him though… not while in a private room.

“You… you’ll pay for that with your miserable existence,” the injured bot hissed.

The red femme stared at the liquid on her servo, then down at him, surprised to find she was not as averse to the sight of his fluids as she might have expected. It actually felt rather good… to put him in his place, to make him pay for the terrible treatment his lot subjected them to. She lifted her arm again, and his whole demeanor shifted, anger replaced by fear as he stared up at her.

Something in her lurched… not in disgust… in pleasure.

Pushing his flailing servos out of the way, she brought the heavy figure down against the side of his helm, denting the ornate adornments and the plating beneath. He shouted in pain. The sensation pulsed again… and again she hit him, this time across the jaw. It split his lip components, making him choke on energon as it pooled in his mouth.

She had never experienced something quite so satisfying. She thought about the countless times she and others like her had been forced into distasteful situations with bots they wanted nothing to do with, abused, humiliated, used… rage rose in her like a black tide, swelling to consume the brittle sorrow that had been plaguing her for orns now, since her lover had been stolen away.

She struck him again, and this time, when he garbled out a plea for mercy, she laughed. Such a cruel, sadistic sound… she liked it. Over and over she lashed out, not stopping when his face became an unrecognizable mess, nor when he stopped moving entirely. It wasn’t until her frame seized with an unexpected overload that she reared back, arching, crying out in bliss.

Several kliks passed as she sat there, staring up at the ceiling as she came down from her startling high. She let the statuette fall from her limp servo, slowly removing herself from the berth and stepping back to stare down at what she’d done.

‘I… I offlined him,’ she thought, shocked that she had actually succeeded.

Now, all that was left to do was wait for them to find her like this… though, that might take awhile, and she certainly didn’t want to sit here with his grotesque cadaver as it continued to leak fluids everywhere. So… she could go find them… show them. She imagined a Keeper wouldn’t be far.

Turning to the door, she strode slowly but resolutely toward it, placing her servo atop the handle… only to pause. It was as if some unseen force kept her from turning it, locking her in place as she stared down at the polished lever.

‘Is this really how it all ends? They just… scrap her… and scrap me… and that’s it? They win?’

The thought didn’t sit well with her. Despite the lingering ache that seemed to permeate every part of her, there was a spark - hot and sharp - at her core, demanding justice. A desire to see them pay for everything they had done, to see the pain they had caused visited upon them a thousand-fold. She thought about the mech who had taken her sweet little femme, about the Keeper who spoke so flippantly about it, and the Master who’d chastised her for daring to hope for something better.

“You were not made for love. You were made to serve. To please! It serves you both right, for thinking yourselves above your station!”

Echoes of his callous words rang through her processor. The hate that had taken root inside of her spark branched out, twisting, choking out the sadness. They deserved to suffer. If she perished now, no one would ensure that vengeance was meted out.

Gingerly she lifted her digits from the handle, taking one step back.

‘And who will deliver this vengeance… me?’ she asked herself, considering. ‘I’m no Megatron. No gladiator.’

Yet he had not always been a gladiator, she recalled. He had been a miner. It was sheer power of will that had helped him carve his path. A short chuckle escaped her. Though, judging from the size of him, she imagined his strength had likely helped him along. However... not every gladiator was of that same towering stature. Those who weren’t relied on other skills: speed, precision. These were things she did indeed possess, and with time, perhaps she could become more.

Her optics fell to her servos, still smeared with freshly spilt energon. Perhaps one day hers would be the servos to deliver their retribution. And if she was offlined in the process… well… at least she had made her stand.

Across the room, the lights of the city flickered through a tall window. The dark of the night whispered to her, pulling her closer. Her gaze dropped to the bustling streets below. The height was staggering, though it had never been something that bothered her. She placed a pede on the sill and stepped up, balancing herself in the narrow opening. 

"This is for us, Star of my Spark."

Without looking back, she released her grip on the frame… and let herself fall.