How TF Reconstruct Pregnancy Into Kink

How TF reconstruct pregnancy into kink

Graphic pregnancy in fandom and in smut in particular was my squick. I remember craving peroxide to wash my brain after reading a mpreg fic, I cringed so hard the cringe almost got imprinted into my DNA. But there was also something intriguing. And by dissecting the whole concept, I found what it is that squicks me: body shape deformation, round visible bellies, painful birth, and, em, actual babies.

Transformers really changed a lot for me. The whole "pregnant machine" shit is so surreal and post-post-post-modern that I don't really associate it with human reproduction. Alien robots and xeno reproduction in general are just about artistic license and the rule of horny.

You just scrape out everything that doesn't work for you and add anything that gives you a boner. Cybertronians laying eggs? Why not. Laying being sexy and pleasurable? Yeah.

And what do I find inexplicably and oddly hot? Secret pregnancy. No visible signs, no significant weight gain. Maybe only a scrupulous look can find the waist being thickened. Otherwise there's no major changes in the bot's shape. But oh boy, how it may FEEL. Should we talk about the sex drive spiking like crazy (pun intended)? And it ends with an orgasm and a Kinder Surprise Egg. Wow, tasty.

The erotism of illumination Among all things that got me into Transformer porn, there is one: the fanon on lighting. Yep, that's biolights on spikes and around (or even inside!) valves. I haven't seen the technology explored, but there could be so much more fun terminology and details. Is it LED? Is it hemiluminescence? Or more like fluorescence? Fiber-optic? Glowing dicks and cunts are really a thing. It's like a rave party for voluptuous introverts. And if the lights are glowing with arousal and the pattern (or the color maybe?) can tell you just how turned on the bot is... Oh, sexy. And internal lights, visible only if you spread the entrance with your fingers. Like a magical cave, promising you miracles. Man, I watched "Avatar" on the big screen as a kid, when it was first released. Maybe it seeded the kink in me, and I'm hardly alone. Who wouldn't fuck the Pandoran biosphere?

Honestly, my hate for Tailgate is just nothing compared with my mind-numbing, wall-crushing, ground-shaking, church-burning, child-eating loathing towards MTMTE Megatron. Hating fictional characters is not my style, so I wasn't prepared for how this abomination of Marty Sue-ing ALL my favorite tropes will make me want him off dead, so I can get back to my weird space opera without it being focused on his crocodile tears and lame "second chances" bullshit.

I'm cool with IDW's dark and detailed take on him, even MTMTE sometimes made sense (for ex, I really love the issue with the LL's crew visiting the Necroworld and Megs facing the reflexion of his atrocities, even though it's questionably romanticized). If done better, there was a chance I would love Megs' portrayal. 

But god, it was so awful, it's just outrageous. And you know what pisses me the worst? This dirty bastard is sexy as hell, I don't know what to do with my hate-boner, which in this case HAS something to do with an actual boner. (And I still see the effort in his characterization, and I'm a sucker for effort.)

I'm still up for some sorts of sexy content with him. Not any, it's a matter of perspective, timeline, and utilized tropes. 

(There should be a term for getting off hypocritically.)

Anon's ask about Megatron's sluttification passed through the prism of my brain and turned into something much sweeter. Let's look back into Megs' miner days, when his views and values were still in the process of being forged (so unlike himself, sorry, I just can't). Pre-war miners' lovemaking.

It's Terminus with whom Megatron shares his first attempts at writing. Miners are deprived of the luxury of having time to sit together to look through what Megatron has to share, so Terminus usually reads it whenever possible and then provides his review. It's simple and straightforward, no sophisticated shit for pampered intellectuals.

That's how Terminus finds a note, saying, "By radically renouncing and refusing to understand the mechanisms of our oppression, we put ourselves at risk of being detached from the reality of our custody. Instead of indulging ourselves in blind radicalism, we should analyze: what makes the system work? Functionism defines us through our bodies, because it's our bodies that make profit in this system. So, instead of rejecting our bodies, like some reject their alt-modes, we should make our bodies work for us. Our frames are not holy temples of Primus, they are our workshops in which we forge and shape our freedom."

The next page is much more rough, just a quick note about prostitution being stigmatized to deny the lower class any additional ways to gain wealth. The text itself is fine, but the subtext feels suspicious to Terminus. Is his Megatron really…

So he asks Megatron himself when they meet in their shared hab later. Megatron calmly tells about his decision to raise funds by making use of his body, which is a far cry from what is commonly viewed as appealing. But there are bots who're looking for manual workers. Even some freaks from high-ranking castes get wet from the perspective of a strong lower-classed scum fucking them. That's what they want. Perverts.

"Load of scrap," Terminus frowns. "You're wasting your words."

He hates telling Megatron this, but the kid is really confused now. He just has to help him reexamine this shit, so he starts with a kiss. Maybe Terminus is not as good with his words as Megatron (honestly, very few are), but he's good with his hands. Miners' bodies are not very sensitive, but he knows where to touch: wrists, hips near the codpiece. And Megatron's head equipment makes a perfect erogenous zone when free from his helmet.

Terminus is licking these trembling petals, careful not to bite. The effect it has on Megatron is impossible to ignore: mouth slightly open in soft gasps, both parts of his array ready and wet. Kneeling, Terminus pushes his legs apart, and Megatron moans in anticipation. Maybe Terminus is not as good with his word, but damn, how good he is with his tongue, licking Megatron's spike and valve. Like he's starving and Megatron is leaking pure energon, if hunger could also explain hot, tender kisses. 

Miners' equipment is most basic, plain, and unadorned, with a meager amount of nodes, but Terminus is eager and relentless when it comes to making Megatron shudder and ready to discharge, but now he's not letting him.

"Your body is a holy temple." Terminus is looking straight into Megatron's flickering eyes. "And you won't let anyone use it disrespectfully. Say it!" The command is added with a quick lick on the valve rim, making the rings inside clench. 

"Say it! And I will overload you."

And, head thrown back and voice cracking with beeps and static, Megatron utters the words. The next second this wonderful tongue is on him again, pushing mercilessly inside, fulfilling the promise. Megatron is holding onto the wall behind him, a stream from his valve hitting Terminus in the face, an unbelievingly blissful moment before it's drunk down. His spike shooting upwards, only for it to land on Terminus' helm and a bit on his back. 

Terminus doesn't mind, as long as his message is understood. 

And if you're looking for the very beginning of Megatron's radicalization, that is it.

Sweet heaven, send me your purest guardian angel and your dirtiest Transformer porn ideas right into my ask box. I need some inspiration until I'm ready to take my own drafted ideas on. What do I mean by "inspiration"? I can't promise I'll do anything, but if it sparks something in me (pun intended), I'll enlarge on your idea with my best and kinkiest. A lil bit about stuff I'm into. I'm quite good with G1, IDW, TF:P and Cyberverse. C'mon, let's find a good use for my perennial devotion to the accidental voyeurism trope. Or my robot piss kink.

Construtiprowl, but is the praxian who got them pregnant?

You mean all of them? Tough job, but more decent than his regular bastard cop activity, so why not? I think there is some kind of unspoken agreement among all Cybertronians that Prowl is such an incurable asshole that he simply should not procreate. Who needs his bastard cyber-DNA spreading? Good news he's a loner by nature and it's unlikely for a sane bot to carry from a casual fuck with him. Well, until his green harem shows up and sees that their precious Prowl doesn't get enough cunt. Maybe five big strong valves could count as enough? At first Prowl is reluctant, playing hard to get. He gets notifications about a lounge in a bath house booked for him and his "company" but deletes them. Until, late at night, he finds himself in the washracks in his apartment with his spike out and his mind playing a half-dream, half-fantasy about big hands holding him, passing him on to each other. Like in a moment of despair he agreed to form Devastator one more time, he surrenders and accepts his admirers' offer. They bathe him in oil a little messily, jostling and squabbling, until Prowl's spike sticks out of the oil like a periscope. He is fished out of the jakuzzi (thanks Hook) and manoeuvred to lay between Long Haul's thighs. He can't suppress his relieved moan when he's finally inside. Touches here and there encourage him, and he's fucking his first valve in a long time like it's his last valve. He's too small to stretch any of them, maybe only Scavenger, but they cheer him every time he's shooting his load. It ends in a haze, Prowl laying sated in the oil bath, Constructicons tossing drinks to each other and him. Could be worse, yeah? It gets worse when Prowl receives a message from Hook with test results attached. He knocked them up. All of them.