Perceptions

rating: ***+mo

Perceptor finished his sentence with a flourish of his hand, optics glowing in enthusiasm. He flipped over a page, placing it on the bottom of a rather sizeable stack, and resumed his report. The senior officers shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They had been there for quite some time and knew that there was no relief in sight.

Perceptor's rapture over his latest discovery was gently interrupted by a slight tingling in his subconscious. Perhaps it was a niggling thought over one of his many experiments. He pushed aside the sensation and pressed on, expounding in detail over his research.

The tingle sank into the back of his mind for awhile, then slowly came to the forefront of his consciousness. A slight sensation ran the length of his dormant interface. Perceptor paused for a microsecond in his report, distracted. He quickly picked up the thread of his monologue and continued, but this time the sensation refused to go away. The tingle became slightly more substantial, almost like a breeze. Perceptor discreetly drew back from the podium and glanced down, yet his visual inspection revealed nothing out of the ordinary. His codpiece was firmly in place, and no gaps were detectable. Most peculiar.

He placed another page of notes on the bottom of the stack and began to speak slightly louder, trying to push the sensations out of his mind. He was capable of losing himself in the analysis of the smallest microbe for days at a time and would shut down from energon deprivation, yet this time he found it unusually difficult to concentrate on his report. True, he had not been sexually satisfied for some weeks now, but he had gone much longer than that before, and he could usually belay gratification until a suitable time. Now was definitely not good.

The sensory receptors in his interface prickled as a phantom breeze seemed to wash over them. His rod stirred slightly, intrigued by the sensation. Perceptor's fist curled slightly on the podium. Not now.

However, his interface thought that any time was a good time and refused to be denied. The sensations slowly grew into a caress at the tip of his slowly hardening rod. A shudder ran through his frame, and he grasped the edges of the podium for support, shaking his head slightly.

"Are you all right, Perceptor?"

Perceptor jumped at the authoritative voice laced a note of concern. "Uh, of course, Prime," he murmured a bit distractedly. He rustled his papers, trying desperately to remember what part he'd left off on. He began reading at random, and most of his captive audience wouldn't have noticed if he'd started reciting the Communist Manifesto. A bead of coolant slid down his forehead and trickled down his cheek, either out of nervousness or arousal.

He mentally berated himself. Now was not the time to lose his cool. He was occasionally accused of being dispassionate, but he could really use some of that self-control right now. He was about to show the entire command structure how hot under the collar he could get. He fidgeted as the constriction under his lower armor built up agonizingly, going beyond the point where he could comfortably ignore it. A phantom fingertip caressed the head of his stiff, throbbing rod, and he could no longer suppress the moan that rose in his throat. He felt a drop of slick fluid trail down the inflamed unit and shuddered. This was going much further than he wanted.

"Perceptor," Optimus said gently. "You don't look at all well. Perhaps it would be best if you took a break."

Perceptor opened his mouth to protest, then clamped it shut as a groan welled up from deep inside. "Yes, Prime, perhaps you are right," he said a bit breathlessly. He couldn't stand another moment of this torment. It was humiliating to have to slink off, but staying where he was would be ten times worse.

"I'm glad I don't have to make it an order," Prime said with a touch of humor in his voice. "You are dismissed." The others just barely refrained from cheering. They were of course concerned for Perceptor's well-being, but their patience could only stretch so far.

Perceptor grabbed his notes, fumbling as a few sheets nearly slipped out of his grasp, and hastened out of the briefing room. He was fervently glad that his face displayed little of his embarrassment, and that his codpiece did not have a suspicious bulge poking out. "What could be happening to me?" he mused. This had never happened to him before, or anyone else, to his knowledge. He hurried off to the lab to do a diagnostic scan.

His erection strained against the confining metal as he strode down the hall, trying to keep his stride steady. The sensations were maddening, and he grasped the papers in his hand, wrinkling them, wishing his hands were wrapped around the burning pole, soothing the delightful ache. He began to pant slightly, his rod bumping against his codpiece, smearing the interior with precum.

He burst into his lab, hastening over to a spare table and throwing down his notes. He turned back to the door, magna-sealing it against any disturbance, then headed over to the diagnostic table, taking care to not stimulate his throbbing penis any more than was necessary. He removed the fragile, precious lens perched on his shoulder, then his codpiece followed suit. The scanner hummed slightly as he passed it over his body. He whimpered, optics nearly going offline as the scanner tickled his oversensitized nodes. A drop of shimmering liquid fell from the engorged tip to splash on the table.

A frustrated cry burst from his sensuous mouth. What was causing this maddening arousal? Not that he minded being aroused, mind you, but he preferred to choose the time and place to give into his baser sexual urges. The tickle in his mind grew in intensity.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, moving the scanner from his very alert interface up to his CPU. He allowed the device to record its data, then studied the results. It was as he hypothesized -- there was a faint trace of a second thought pattern. His thoughts -- his functions -- were being influenced by someone else.

"Eclipse?" he spoke aloud. "Have you been doing this to me?"

A giggle echoed inside his mind, confirming his suspicions, and if there had been any doubt in his mind, it was swept away as an invisible hand seemed to grasp his erection and squeeze. His head tilted back, exposing his throat, as he gave voice to a tortured cry. The expanse of dripping wet metal began to throb, sending warm tremors through his body. "Mmmm," he sighed, a dreamy smile crossing his face. He carefully put down the scanner and examined his hard-on. He was quite willing to run this little experiment to its natural conclusion.

"How are you doing this?" he wondered aloud.

Gentle laughter answered him. //It's all in your mind// his lover replied. //I've fooled your processors into thinking there's a hand squeezing you, so that's what you feel. I can do anything I want with you now.//

Perceptor shrieked as a shiver traveled down the tiny opening in his thick shaft. By the gods, she was touching the *inside*! The tickling sensations traveled the reverse route that his lovely cum would soon exit, pleasuring the sensitized mech like never before. His legs trembled as he seized the twitching rod with one hand, rubbing it for all it was worth. He whimpered at the sucking noises as his finely sculpted fingers worked at the sticky surface.

His cries rose in pitch as his arousal began to peak, then... died down slightly, subsiding, denying him. "Nooo!" he howled. He had never been so desperate in his life. He turned to the table before him, rubbing his inflamed erection against it, thrusting against the cold metal hungrily. "It's not working!" he cried and pulled away, leaving a sticky trail. He sank to his knees and grasped his unit with both hands, pulling so hard he feared he'd yank it off. Cleansing fluid began to trickle from his optics as release built up dramatically, nearly crested, then remained at maddening levels. Thwarted again!

In blind lust, Perceptor dragged himself across the floor, rubbing his painfully throbbing penis against the cold surface. He slithered to the other side of the room on his belly, his dribbling erection leaving a distinct trail, not caring how foolish he looked. Anything to achieve release! "Eclipse, please!" he screamed. "I need it!"

He felt a rush of arousal from her end of their mental connection. She was really getting off on his desperation. She loved making him lose control, since even in the sack he remained in command of all his faculties. She wanted to push him to the absolute limit. He was quite close now, but she still wanted to toy with him a little longer.

She sent Perceptor an erotic image of himself leaning against a wall, legs spread wide open, as a nameless mech devoured his straining erection. He howled, uncontrollably aroused at the mental image. Right now he didn't care how it happened, he wanted release! If it took Megatron himself to gobble his crank, he didn't care!

Eclipse snickered at that thought. She had the perfect way to bring her suffering lover to culmination. //Lean forward// she instructed, sending a rush of sensation down Percy's poor abused rod as he complied. //Further!//

"Eclipse, this is as far as I can go!" he protested.

//Try harder// she prompted, sending commands to his CPU to comply. He screamed as servos and muscle cables were pushed to the limit. Taking pity on him, she dulled the pain and strain, allowing him to focus on the burning need for release.

His optics dazedly focused on the swollen, throbbing head of his shaft right before his face. He was a bit taken aback. //Go on, open your mouth// Eclipse cooed.

Perceptor opened his mouth to protest, and it was then that she gave another command to his body, bringing his head closer and slipping his lips over the dripping tip of his arousal. He cried out and tried to jerk back but she held him firmly still. He sat frozen for several seconds, then the need for release, at any cost, seized him. He began to suck as hard as he could, oral probe running over what it could reach. He whimpered around the obstruction, feeling his erection swell beyond belief. "I can't believe this is happening!" he thought wildly. Then his rod burst, releasing a spray of cum into his mouth and down his throat. The pressure startled him and he jerked back slightly, cum spurting onto his face. The taste of his own fluids shocked and aroused him beyond belief, and he grabbed his spraying shaft and shoved it back in his mouth, causing an even more powerful orgasm to tear loose, flooding his cavernous mouth with conducting fluid. He swallowed rapidly, the liquid trickling out from his lips as his body emptied what seemed to be a gallon of cum. His optics shorted out in ecstasy, unable to believe the satisfaction of tasting himself.

At last his body stopped twitching, and his interface slipped from his mouth, shrinking back to normal size. He sighed and sank back to lie against the cold floor, forgetting about everything; the cum on his face, his lab smeared with fluids, his codpiece lying against the room. He refused to let himself think about what he had just done. Right now he was drained beyond belief, in more ways than one, and he'd sort it all out after a nice, relaxing nap.

The End

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