It was awkward…to say the least. She'd never slept with anyone before, least of all a gladiator. He was large and worst of all, he was warm. Onyx and her mother were always cold. It made her father laugh, especially when he was snuggling with both of his femmes on the couch. It wasn't her fault that she was a femme. It wasn't her fault that she was cuddling the overlord with gusto.

It was really a little too comfortable for her taste. The berth was soft and smelled like a mech. The covers were perfect; not too light, not too heavy. The pillows, she assumed, were also soft and fluffy. She assumed this because at the moment, she was not allowed to go anywhere near them. Megatron was doing a fantastic job of keeping her pinned down.

The overlord had her pinned against his chest, with his own helm resting quite comfortably upon the pillows. Her helm, however, was relegated to resting against his arm. Which, she had to admit, was not as warm and comfy as it had been a few hours previous. Now, she was warm…and her neck ached.

Luckily for her neck, it was nearly dawn. Didn't military types usually wake themselves early? She certainly hoped so. Onyx sighed and tried to get into a slightly more comfortable position, careful not to disturb the mech next to her.

A deep growl rippled from Megatron's chest. Her helm vibrated just a little and she suppressed a giggle. His arms tightened around her slightly, squeezing gently. His growl trailed off into a soft purr.

It was time for 'her' mech to wake up. Her neck was only going to take a few more moments of this before she died. Carefully, she began to rub her helm against his arm. This helped loosen the cabling in her neck, as well as soothe Megatron.

His purring grew in volume. His arms loosened just a little bit, allowing her to lift her helm. She shimmied up his chassis and just as her helm hit the pillow, Megatron rolled his bulk over onto her.

The position was terrifyingly erotic. She was trapped on her stomach with her hands pinned under herself. Megatron's weight was resting on her body, his heat nearly smothering her. When he nipped the back of her neck with his sharp denta, she went limp, unable to stop the reaction. Her programming instantly flagged him as the alpha over her.

"Good morning to you as well, little femme," His voice was like an exotic silk rubbing over a gravel road. Sexual and sensual and all mech. "You weren't trying to escape, were you?" To make his point clear, he dropped more of his weight onto her, biting into her neck a little harder. Not enough to do damage, but enough to let her know he could.

Primus help her. Why was she aroused by this situation? She should be terrified, ready to submit, but she was running hot. Lubricants were starting to flow, making her uncomfortable. Biting the pillow her face was buried in, she simply shook her head. She wasn't trying to get away. There was no way she could. Not wrapped in his arms. He was way too close and she wasn't quite that stupid.

Megatron's bite let up. Onyx lifted her helm slightly, but made no other move. It wouldn't be smart to provoke the most powerful mech on the planet. Two giant hands landed beside her helm. She shivered slightly, her body squirming lightly under him. Megatron purred at the contact.

It had been…a long time since he'd had a femme to warm his berth. There was something incredibly satisfying to his mechhood to see a shivering femme body pinned under him. Especially in this position. It was an extremely dominant and submissive position. The only way it could be better would be if he owned the planet and was living in a palace. And if she was his empress.

The femme beneath him was certainly not a classic beauty. But she was alluring. There was a latent sexuality waiting to burst out of her. Vorns of repression had stuffed her into a mold of the upper-class. And given how she was shivering and moaning under him, it wouldn't take much to turn her into a little interface pleasure-bot. One meant just for him.

The femme beneath him could easily be his empress. His reaction to her that first day was not something to be ignored. He rarely had any sort of strong reaction to anything. Slaughtering hundreds of mechs over his lifetime had made him a jaded bastard. And he liked it that way.

This femme would look fantastic as his empress. He would repaint her. She would wear the deep purple of his cause. She would be have dark black accents and be a delicate empress. The perfect contrast to him. She would bear his progeny. He would make sure that she would be pampered, all her hardships gone.

She would stand with him when he addressed the public. She would look proud and regal. He would see to it that she was protected at all times while the public could see her. It would not do for his femme to be killed. When she wasn't with him in public, she would warm his berth.

And having her pinned beneath him made him realize just how fantastic she would be. She was soft and yielding. But she was feisty and mouthy. He intended to find out if she was as mouthy when she was being taken by him.

Experimentally, he gently ground his hips into her aft. The surface of the berth gave slightly under their weight, letting her sink into it. Just as soon as she sunk down, her hips thrust back into him. He could not help the growl that escaped him.

As much as he wanted her, now was the wrong time. He needed her a little deeper in his world. There was something to be said for having a femme in a trap. Megatron needed her in a gilded cage. If he did it correctly, she would never even know that she was in a cage.

"It's time to get up, little femme. You need to get cleaned up. You have to be ready to greet the troops." With a little nip to her neck, he sat up, kneeling between her spread thighs. Onyx remained with her faceplates pressed into the pillow for a good solid half breem before leveraging herself up. Megatron's large hands settled on her hips, slipping his thumbs up and down, caressing her.

"It is…difficult to get up and clean myself when I find myself pinned by you at every turn, my Lord." She managed to keep the sass out of her voice. Just barely. But it was there, lurking just below the surface. And he would hear it. He always did.

"One of these days I'll see if your mouth is as good at working on my cock as it is at making me angry," His hands tightened on her hips, warning her. A hand on the side of her chin titled her helm to the side and he leaned forward to look her in the optics. Her optics were bright, betraying her anger and frustration. Megatron grinned as wolfishly as he could, letting her see his sharp denta. She was beginning to understand that she belonged to him.

"I live to please you, Lord Megatron," The words slipped out before she could stop them. Megatron's grin expanded, his optics darkening. A low, rumbling chuckle bubbled up from his chest, and the vibrations echoed through her chassis menacingly. With a sharp pull of his hands, she was thrown backward over his shoulder. He was holding her by the lower legs, letting her knees hook over his shoulders and the rest of her body hang limply.

He kicked the door open and walked into the hallway. Onyx came to her senses and screamed for the first time in his presence. She wasn't sure if he was going to kill her or rape her, but she was certain that one of those two things was going to happen. Maybe both. If she played her cards correctly, she'd be able to please him well enough and bargain her way out of death.

Shuttering her optics, she tried as best she could to remember the girly gossip from some of her friends. Little bits of advice that she had brushed off as inconsequential and gross could now save her life. Any little thing that could put her over the top could save her life.

And suddenly, her world flipped. Energon rushed through her system, making her slightly nauseous. She onlined her optics as quickly as she could and realized that she was seated. She was sitting on her own kitchen counter, right beside the energon dispenser. Her mother was seated at the table, optics wide and looking as scared as Onyx felt.

The reason for her mother's fear was obvious. There were at least fifteen rowdy, hardened looking mechs seated around her, all smiling lecherously. Empty energon containers were strewn all around the table. Apparently the mechs had all made themselves right at home. Onyx's spark-beat was nearly out of control, her optics roving all over her mother's frame. Not a speck of paint was out of place and she seemed to be physically alright.

"Gentlemen," Megatron placed a cube of energon in the dispenser and leaned on the counter next to her. "I trust that you have your accommodations…suitable?" At the mech's laughter, Megatron smirked and pulled out the cube of energon, taking a sip. Onyx watched him drink, feeling safer to simply sit and wait to be acknowledged.

"Onyx, darling, how was your night?" Her mother's voice trembled slightly. It was humbling to see her once proud mother bowed by the pressure of one mech. Or a group of mechs, depending on how you looked at it.

"It was perfectly fine, mother. Yours?" She masked the concern in her voice, falling into the formality that her parents had pounded into her for all of her life. If those mechs had touched her mother, she would make sure that Megatron would pay. It was worth her life to get revenge for her family.

"It was fine. This morning, however, was a slightly different story," The mechs sitting around the table laughed raucously. "You see, darling, I was rudely awakened by several large and brutish mechs breaking down the front door of our domicile. They came bearing news that they had been invited to stay by the master of the house." At that, Emberstar turned vicious optics towards Megatron.

"I'm terribly sorry about your experience, mother," Onyx's tone slipped into slight sarcasm. "I can assure you that the master of the house is most accommodating for everyone under his command." Megatron continued to sip his energon, looking completely relaxed and in control. Which he was.

"What insolent little femmes you have here, my liege," A black and white mech with a vicious smile said from his corner of the room. "Perhaps I could take them off your hands and train them for a little while. I assure you that I would return them in mint condition." The mech's grin grew as he caught Onyx's optics and saw the fear within them.

"No, Barricade. I know what 'mint' condition means to you. Let me assure you that they will be trained to my liking. And they will stay under my jurisdiction until I see fit to release them. Understood?" Barricade nodded immediately, subserviently. At Megatron's sweeping and questioning optics, the rest of the mechs crowded around the table vigorously nodded.

Onyx surveyed the scene with interested optics. If someone had told her that this was what her life was going to look like, she would have laughed herself silly. Of course, the chances of someone talking to her about her life were slim. Most of her 'friends' were femmes of the same social class, most of whom only cared about themselves and how many mechs were fawning over them.

Megatron's hand appeared in front of her faceplate, holding a mostly empty container of energon. Her optics locked with his. There was no way in pit that she was going to drink his leftovers. She deserved a full ration of energon, especially after all the slag he'd put her through. His hand did not waver, but his optics became darker. Onyx knew that meant that he was becoming angry with her. She wasn't afraid. Well, she was, but he didn't have to know that.

Unfortunately for her, he already did. Megatron hadn't survived in the pits of the gladiatorial ring for long without knowing what fear looked like. He knew it in himself and he could identify it in others. And Onyx reeked of fear. From the stiff way she held herself to the way that her optics were a little too bright, she told him of her fear.

"Either you drink from my hand or not at all. And I suggest that you keep your strength up. Today will be…exciting…for you." The contents of the cube swirled as he twisted his wrist in front of her. A glance around the room told her that the mechs seated around the table were scenting her for weakness. If she was going to be Megatron's femme, even temporarily, they'd want to see how easily he dominated her. Well, they were in for a surprise.

"Not at all, then." She smirked up at him, feeling as though she'd managed to overcome his dominance. Their optics met and Megatron's faceplate suddenly seemed much darker than she'd remembered.

He moved gracefully, more like a dancer than a warrior. Swift and dominantly, he stepped in front of her fully, pulling himself up to his full height. Silver armor gleamed under the lights, his body so wide that he blocked the light from her. He looked like he did in the vids…just before he killed his opponent with his mighty blade. At least he didn't have his blade ready to kill her.

Her awe must have shown on her face, because within moments of him stepping in front of her, his mechs chuckled deeply. Megatron's large hands grasped the sides of her hips, squeezing and caressing them. She gasped lightly, liking the stimulation on a base level. She was a young femme; her interface systems had only recently come online. And thanks to taboos in her upper class world, she never explored her own body.

The feeling made her remember the night before, the passionate touches and the pure need that flowed through her lines. As she relived the night, she mentally checked out of the present. Megatron watched as her optics darkened, knowing that she was becoming aroused. This was a perfect opportunity to show that he was the master of both this house and of his mechs.

The mechs he had invited to the house were among his most loyal. They were the ones that he had scared enough to 'trust' not to harm Onyx's mother. However, it never hurt to assert dominance over the mechs he brought with him. And, it wouldn't help to shut that harpy of a mother of hers up either.

Megatron leaned in and nipped her neckplates, treasuring the tiny gasp Onyx emitted. Her tiny hands left their place on the countertop and rose up to rest on his chestplates. He could barely even feel them, but the warmth they radiated more than made up for the lack of weight. With a low growl in her audio, he shuddered and moved his hands up to grasp her helm.

It would be so easy to crush her. His hands nearly engulfed her helm, his sharp fingers were more than enough to slice through the thin metal and destroy the sensitive insides. But he restrained himself. It was costly in both time and credits to find and train an empress to stand by his side. And all of his instincts and her pheromones were telling him that he was on the right track. He'd be better off to use his power to impress her and pleasure her. Sometimes an energon goodie was better than torture, especially on femmes.

One hand slipped to the back of her helm, holding her steady. Her optics were still dark, she was aroused. She was completely unaware of anything he was doing, she was lost in her memories. Hopefully they were good memories of the pleasure he had given her the night before. Even though she had not climaxed, any sort of pleasure for a virgin was processor-blowing.

"I don't think you understand yet, my dear," Megatron paused, picking up the abandoned cube of energon and swirling it right under her olfactory sensors. Her family was very wealthy and their energon was sweet and powerful. "All of the things that I offer you are not really offers at all. They are thinly veiled commands. I veil them because you are not one of my soldiers. However, you will do as I say, because I am your Alpha. And little submissive femmes will always obey their Alphas."

And just like that, her helm was tilted back and energon flooded her mouth. She choked, swallowing the energon with abandon, trying to clear her vents and get fresh air back into her system. Megatron allowed her a few seconds to catch a breath and then pressed more of the energon into her mouth. Onyx's hands covered his own on the cube, pulling at him with all her might. When all the energon was gone, Megatron smirked at her before setting the cube aside.

"See, little one? It's not so bad. I'll take care of you, so long as you follow my orders," He assessed her with a disparaging look, taking in her scuffed paint and dull finish. "I've decided that we're leaving today. You need to get cleaned up before greeting the troops."

"These aren't the troops?" Her voice was rough, thanks to the treatment her throat tubing had just received at his hands. Next time, she'd just take the energon from him and drink it herself. It had to be better than being choked with his leftovers.

"You think I can win a war with only thirteen mechs?" Megatron chuckled before casting his eyes over the group. They were his strike team, the mechs who followed him into battle with ease and made him look good. "Well, I probably could win a war with a handful of mechs, but I like to win with style. And style means showing up to defeat Optimus Prime with legions behind me. And after I sever his head, I will come back to my empress and establish an empire." At her confused look, Megatron whispered theatrically, "The empress part is you, sweetspark."

She flushed, energon lighting her faceplates. As she spluttered, trying to come up with an answer, Megatron chuckled and shut her gaping mouthplates. He slipped one arm under her legs and picked her up bridal style. With a nod to the mechs and Ember, Megatron walked out of the room and down the hallway, back to the master bath.

"I believe that you deserve to be punished for all the sassy words that have come out of your mouthplates this day." Megatron watched as the femme seemed to shrink in on herself. He was slowly starting to understand her. She was inflamed in the presence of others, thinking that she was safe with others around. "However, I believe that sometimes little femmes need to get a taste of the…pleasures…of life before I can expect them to behave well."

He walked into the bath and set her down on the side of the oil bath. He tested the temperature with his hand, finding that it was adequately hot. They were rich, after all, and had the finest things that life had to offer. He placed the tiny femme into the liquid, chuckling as she sighed in pleasure. Oh, this femme was going to be fantastic once he cleared her and trained her.

She relaxed, clearly against her better judgment, as she kept stealing glances at him. The reason Megatron wanted to move her to the base so quickly was because it looked like his troops were raring to conquer faster and harder than they were currently. He needed to be with them to rein them in and give them focus. But he couldn't leave his femme behind. Which meant that she needed to go through a security clearance before she could integrate.

Soundwave would be able to give her clearance in only a few breems, by looking into her thoughts and telling him if there was anything he should worry about. The problem was that Soundwave was not used to being gentle or subtle when digging through a mech's or femme's thoughts and emotions. Those that passed were usually disturbed. Those who did not pass were slowly tortured to death from the inside out. Megatron smirked. He loved his little operation.

He watched the little femme get settled into the bath. The small waves of oil that came out from her body were alluring, calling him towards the body making them. She was understated elegance. All she needed was a little training, some polishing of her manners and she would come into her own. Oh, and a new paintjob. She needed to be brighter. Dark colors were good for mechs and SpecOps members, but not for future empresses. Purple would be both light enough and dark enough to suit both of their needs.

She picked up the cleaning pad and started buffing her plating under the oil. Megatron dipped his fingers into the oil and took the pad away from her. There was complete silence in the room, marred only by the sounds of the other mechs being rowdy in the kitchen. He could hear the sounds of his femme's soft venting and the sound the oil made when it dripped and rippled.

He needed a femme more than he was willing to admit. She was perfect for him. She was beautiful, innocent, scared easily when alone and had a touch of sass. When she was trained and loyal, she would stay by his side and care for him. She would draw him baths and clean him. She would bring him energon in his study or office, make sure that he was fed. She would welcome him to her berth when the day was winding down.

For her to get to that point, she needed some incentive to stay with him. Oh, sure, when he was emperor, he could force her to stay, but in the meantime…

"Get out." He ordered her, snapping her out of her oil induced haze. Her optics blearily looked at him and she shuttered them slowly. Obviously not comprehending the order he had just given her. He repeated the order, sitting up and abandoning the pad he had stolen from her. She was clean enough. He'd just have to buff her plating and she'd be fine.

When she stood and the oil had mostly dripped off of her, he wrapped her in a buffing towel. He couldn't help the smirk that crept onto his faceplates. For her, it was a full body towel. For him, it would have just been a buffing towel. He was looking forward to exploring their size differences in the berth someday soon.

He scooped her up and carried her to the berth they had left not so long ago. The sheets were mussed and pillows skewed, but it was fine for what he had in mind. Onyx was squirming in his arms, getting tired of being carried like a sparkling. Megatron was a master of dominating 'bots without them even really understanding what he was doing. The more he handled her, the more she would come to depend on him and the more she would be amenable to him touching her.

As soon as he dumped her on the berth, he knew that it was time for this femme to get her first taste of pleasure at his hands. His initial plan had been to do it that morning, but his hunger gnawed at him and his need to check on his troops overrode his needs to solidify their relationship. But those needs were now fulfilled and he could focus on her. When she started to stammer and sit up, he pressed a finger to her mouth, silencing her.

He slid the buffing cloth out from under her aft and climbed onto the berth. He pulled one of her feet up onto his lap and started working the soft cloth over her plating. As he watched, two things happened. The first was that her plating began to shine, the dark colors coming to life under his hands. The second was that she began to squirm. She was already aroused, at such a small thing? Incredible. She must be still be flagging him as an alpha.

He picked up the other foot and did the same buffering treatment to it as well. Once that leg was bright and shiny, he grabbed both of her feet in both of his hands and pulled. She slid towards him and her crotch plates hit his folded knees with a soft clang of metal on metal. He remained in his kneeling position above her, loving the way her soft optics looked up at him with blatant need written in them.

In this position, he was in charge and she was at his mercy. Megatron never allowed a femme to be in control of interface. They could buck and thrust at him all they wanted, but he was always in control. It got him hot and kept his engine revving. Having a dominant femme was something of a turn-off for the warlord. And it looked as though his little femme might just be able to satisfy his need to dominate.

Instead of giving her the touches she really need, Megatron instead focused on buffing her stomach and her shoulders. He ignored her chest, thighs and port covering. Once she was huffing on the berth, squirming and showing him her blatant need, he moved to her more sensitive areas.

He buffed the soft plating of her chest, listening to her sweet moans and feeling her plating heat beneath his touch. She was wild in her pleasure, thrashing her helm and bucking against his leg. She was rubbing her port covering against his knee, just as she had the night before. At least she wasn't stupid. She knew what she wanted, even if he wouldn't give it to her. But after teasing her for the better part of a day, it was time to get them both some satisfaction.

He wanted a semblance of a relationship with her. Just…he wanted an imbalanced one, where he was the king and she was his consort. His consort with tender feelings for him. He had plans to have affection for her, but that was it. Anything more was going to be verging on a liability.

He slipped the cloth down to her legs, teasing her sensitive thighs. She certainly was an expensive build, with all this soft and sensitive metal. Not at all like his frame. He was built for heavy mine work and was then upgraded to be a gladiator. It would take more than a few tender touches to get him bucking and thrashing.

At last, he reached her port. He actually allowed himself a smile when he saw the pale blue lubricant weeping from its seams. She was more than ready for her king to sheath himself inside of her. How incredibly wanton of her. It was always the quiet, upper-class femmes that were the closet pleasurebots. He was just lucky that he'd made it to her before any other mech.

He abandoned the cloth, not wanting the material to absorb the precious fluids. Instead, he folded his finger and used a blunt knuckle to tease her port covering. He tried to trace it and tease her, but she retracted the covering before he was able to fully tease her. His knuckle instead sank into the hot and soft port of a virgin femme. Of all the femmes he'd ever had, she was by far the tightest.

On a femme who had interface experience, it was usually easy for him to slip a finger or knuckle into her port. On his femme, however, there was no such thing. Her seal was intact, leading him to simply rest against the hot plastic. A skilled medic could replace a seal and therefore reinstall a state of innocence, but there was no way this seal was replaced. The lubricants were flowing from a small tear towards the bottom. No medic would allow damaged goods to be inside of a femme.

However, a virgin femme would be naturally prone to an older seal that would eventually tear and fail on its own. Whatever the seal, he was more than excited to see it. However, he wanted to break it with his rod, not his finger. Any mech could break a seal with a finger, but he wanted to take her properly.

Instead, he decided to focus on her node. He would take her with his rod when they had more time and were safe and secure in one of his bases. At least there he had berths large enough to carry both himself and a femme interfacing wildly. He'd fall out of this berth in a sparkbeat if he tried to thrust with any sort of passion.

He trapped her node between two knuckles and gently manipulated it. Given the amount of lubricants, it wouldn't be long until she overloaded. And given the cry she emitted when he touched her, her overload was on her. It wasn't surprising, he thought, as he watched her face scrunch and her body flail. She was so worked up that even the smallest of touches would set her off. Not to mention that she lacked the skill and age to hold back and make it sweeter. Never mind that, though. He had just given the femme her first overload. And that made him very, very, smug.

I hope this chapter helped flesh out Megatron a little more. He's my favorite character. He's so evil and just such a bastard. And Onyx is a little too…naïve to realize just how deep in slag she is. It'll be fun to see her reaction when she realizes it, though. Please review. It makes me so happy and it makes me want to write better for all you guys! Thank you so much. I promise that the next chapter will get the story moving. After all, Onyx gets to meet Soundwave for the first time. And, maybe…Shockwave. You'll only know if you review…