Work Text:
"You were right all along, Prowl,” he whispers. “You were right."
I can't speak. I'm occupied.
He sighs in pleasure. "You were right. I only wish I had followed your advice sooner. This was what I needed."
I resent him, but, regrettably, I want his approval. Therefore, I'm on his cold office floor, knelt between his legs, with his spike in my mouth. Pleasuring Optimus Prime for his loathsome respect.
I lift my head, freeing my lips to respond. "You seemed... tense, after the recent meetings. I know how to relieve that."
He tips his head forward to look down at me. "You are unexpectedly skilled at this.”
"I know." I am skilled at many things, if you would expect them of me.
Optimus is not forceful. He slumps back in his chair and lets me do all the work. I don't doubt that he would be a more proactive participant if I gave him the option, but complete control of this situation belongs to me. He is... larger than I am, a difference in size which is reflected in his spike, as it presses against the entrance to my throat with each sink of my head.
Allowing himself to be at ease, I hear the click of Optimus's mouth guard withdrawing, letting groans and gasps fall out clear and unimpeded. I lick the head of his spike as it enters, I rub the underside with my tongue, and I throttle it with my lips as it slides out again. Again and again. I am aware I am proficient in this act. My mouth has had copious practice at manipulating words and minds, why should it not also excel in more tangible forms of manipulation?
I want to make Optimus collapse with gratitude, to feel exactly how correct I am, so I relax my throat, and let his spike slip deeper. It's tight and painful and every thrust makes my eyes water, but I'm only more determined to adapt as his moans grow loud and uncontrollable. I won't let go of this power.
I try to force down more, but I can only manage 75% of his length. Instead, I rise higher on my knees, alter the angle of entry, and find I'm able to edge in the final part, lips now pressed against his plating. Optimus's mouth gapes open, his teeth grit, a satisfied hiss escapes. My tongue is pinned in place. I cannot constrict my throat any more. There is no free air within me. I am consumed by the consumption of Optimus Prime's spike.
I repress the urge to gag. For a moment, I allow my body to settle before continuing. The only sound in the room is Optimus's body whirring and squirming and gasping. My throat has adjusted to the intrusion enough that I pick up the pace. I clutch his hips tight for purchase and my head enters a forceful rhythm of up and down, up and down. I will not stop until the job is finished.
My eyes are closed, focussed, but suddenly, I feel a hand rubbing my brow fondly. I look up. As I do, his hand moves to gently cup my cheek, convex and hot. I squint, at first confused, then triumphant. Optimus gazes at me, smiling with adoration, as though he finally comprehends what I am capable of. That look makes me all the more eager to please. If only he knew what other great things I was capable of. If only he would let me.
"You were right." He begins to jerk his hips. "You are right, Prowl,” he praises. Inspired, I hold his hips down tighter, stalling his thrusts, and focus more on my own purposeful movements. I will not allow him to claim any autonomy in this exchange. My throat is fucked raw and my lips begin to numb with the constant tension, causing oral lubricant to trickle downwards.
Suddenly, Optimus's movements become jittery beneath me, hurried, and his breathing is frantic. He's close. I look up at him as his face twists in pathetic bliss. The first drops of transfluid, and then more, pours into my throat and I feel the sticky warmth coating my insides as I swallow it all down. I feel filthy, and I'm disgusted to admit... I liked that.
What I enjoy more, however, is looking up at Optimus to see the state I was able to put him in. A panting, weary figure, respected as our great leader, but now softened by my mouth.
I raise my head and his spike slides out of me. I taste the last acidic remnants of transfluid on my tongue as it exits. My jaw is aching from being forced open and my throat is sore from the battering, but overall, this was a wise move on my part. I am pleased with this outcome. I wipe my lips with my thumb and stand to leave Optimus's quarters.
"Hold on." He chokes out, still panting for composure. "Would you like me to do anything for you?"
Ha! Fool. As if I would accept sexual favours from Optimus Prime. I have more dignity than that. I'm better than that. I'm better than him.
"No. I will see you at tomorrow's meeting." I reply calmly, with only the slightest hint of a smug smirk. Undetectable. I take a few steps towards the door, then briefly hesitate when a poisonous impulse follows up. "Let me know when you require this type of assistance in the future. As your second in command, I am at your disposal.”