Work Text:
As the needle bore into the sensitive skin covering your hipbone, you arched off the leather clad table and bit your lip to stifle your whimpers and did your best to remind yourself as to why you thought this was a good idea.
A little over two months had passed since your first encounter with Knock Out and while the encounters were few and far between, they were enough to hook you and cause you to exclusively take giant robo dick. The tattoo needle hit a particularly tender spot and you choked on a moan so as not to creep out your artist while you mentally replayed some of the far juicer meetings in your mind.
“Color’s almost done.” The tattoo artist grunted as he wiped away some blood that was pooling at the surface and you hummed in acknowledgement while trying to sneak a peek at the dark red Decepticon insignia that was about to be the newest addition to your previously untainted form and smirked to yourself. While out on a drive with Knock Out you had spotted the small logo on his LED radio display and asked about it, in turn he informed you of the Decepticon faction in no uncertain terms. Of course during his explanation, came a personal tangent as to why he ran into you in the first place; his commander (Starscream--you had learned later on) put a ban on his racing with other humans and told him to find another way to expel excess overcharge.
You had commented saying that seducing random humans wasn’t that better of an alternative and received an irritated huff in response before he continued his rant. It wasn’t long afterwards that you had gotten the brilliant idea to brand yourself with the Decepticon insignia as a surprise and had discreetly snapped a picture of it while Knock Out was absorbed in one of his many speeches.
Aside from the mindblowing sex, Knock Out was interesting to an extent--when he wasn’t being an asshole. You had learned that he was the doctor for the Decepticons as well as a soldier when need be, and he had even told you about some of his fellow soldiers. While you didn’t really understand some of what he told you sometimes, you enjoyed listening to him speak nonetheless.
“‘Kay, all done.” You rose up to look at the tattoo and grinned while the artist cleaned and bandaged it up. Visits from Knock Out were random at best and so you honestly didn’t know when you were going to see him again to show him your new ink but you were still beaming when you had left the tattoo parlor and got in your car to head back to your apartment for the evening.
So when you got a message from Knock Out about 15 minutes after midnight you were both elated and grumpy as to the Aston’s timing. Of course he would be able to see you right after you got your surprise for him and of course he would want to see you when you had to be at work at 7 AM the next day. Still, excitement overruled reason and you dressed quickly to meet him at what had quickly become yours and his “fuck garage” as you lovingly dubbed it. It was an abandoned factory about 20 miles outside of town that was large enough to allow Knock Out to transform to his full height if he so wished, and isolated enough for the two of you to be as loud as you wanted.
As you pulled up you saw that he had arrived before you and was leaning against the side of the structure with his back towards you and so you honked once to get his attention before parking your car and stepping out.
“I have to be at work in 6 and half hours.” You told him sourly as he led you into the building.
He waved a servo dismissively. “So? You must not be that concerned if you managed to meet me.” A smirk graced his faceplate as you rolled your eyes. “Strip.”
A huff escaped you as he settled in his usual spot and you crawled into his lap still fully clothed to his chagrin. He narrowed his optics and you rolled your eyes again as you slowly started to remove your top and smiled sweetly. “How was your day? You seem more prickly than usual.” You were taunting him and he didn’t appreciate it.
“I’m not here for small talk.” He bit out, optics roaming over your frame almost impassively as you exposed more of yourself to him until a clawed servo stopped you when the fresh bandage on your hip was presented to him. “What’s that?”
Your smile turned into a sultry smirk as you peeled the bandage away to reveal the crimson Decepticon tattoo. “Well? Like it?”
His optics widened slightly before he met your eyes with a raised optic ridge. “Why would I?” Your confidence deflated.
“I mean, it’s your symbol right? So I figured...it’d be hot.” You paused, looking away to the wall behind him. “Like...marking your property.” You murmured the last part so quietly you weren’t sure if he had heard you.
From the sound of his fans kicking up a notch and the brief rev of his engine you had guessed that he did in fact hear you and when he moved your head to meet his intense gaze, you had realized that you had struck a nerve. “If you had wanted to be marked,” He purred. “You should have told me. I would be more than willing to personally brand you.” You felt a sharp servo press into your back and your eyes fluttered closed at the spark of pain that registered through you.
Knock Out ripped the rest of your clothes from your body and tore a thin strip from your shirt before using it to tie your hands behind your back. “I’m almost hurt that you had someone else mark you--and with a basic Decepticon logo no less!” He shook his helm as he repositioned you, legs spread around his thigh as he pushed you to lay against it, facing up towards him. His foreclaw trailed against your midsection as your chest rose and fell with your heavy breaths.
Your thighs were trembling with anticipation as you watched his servo make it’s way down to the offending mark and you closed your eyes as he pressed his servo into the top of the outline. “Don’t worry, as a doctor I wouldn’t risk infection.” He murmured, trailing down further toward your inner thigh, close to your soaked lips before he pressed hard, breaking the skin ever so slightly.
You arched off his thigh and let out a pained moan as he carved so slowly into your flesh. A quiet groan escaped him at the sight of your reaction and he increased the pressure by a fraction. “Here, no one will be able to see it but me.” His voice was low and pleasured static clicked in briefly. Your body was still sensitive to pain from the day’s earlier events but it quickly dissipated into masochistic pleasure as Knock Out leisurely continued, bumping the knuckle of his thumb against your folds.
“I would’ve never guessed you would be one for pain.” The mixture of his voice and ministrations were driving you crazy and you leaned into his touch as he pulled his servo away to move on to another letter. “Consider me pleased.” A particularly loud whimper tore from your throat at that and Knock Out laughed as he finished the second letter, all the while the most flat part of his thumb teased your clit and entrance, not daring to actually breach you. He alternated between feather light touches and rough strokes and all the different sensations assaulted your nerves and you keened under his touch.
“Knock…” You breathed, eyes finally opening to look up at him as his thumb teasingly brushed against your entrance for the countless time causing you to attempt to open your thighs farther. “C-can I--please let me overload.” You begged as he picked up his pace.
“Pardon? You’re gonna have to speak up.” He sang as he got particularly rough and you groaned.
“FUCK, please Knock, let me overload!” You ground against his touch, and felt his other servo scrape against your other thigh in little zig-zag patterns, leaving red welts in their wake.
“Not yet.” He ex-vented as his servo left your thigh and made it’s way to the hip that didn’t have the tattoo, making superficial marks and occasional deep scrapes with expertly timed rough strokes of your clit. You mewled at the combination of pleasure and pain and tried to rock into his touch to get more much needed stimulation, but the more you tried to rush the situation the more Knock Out moved the hand pleasuring you away.
He clicked in glossa in annoyance and waited for you to settle down a bit before he continued. “We’re really going to have to work on your listening skills.” He sighed as he lightly dragged a claw over your stomach his other servo abandoning your aching clit altogether. The sound of your breathing and occasional moans and whimpers filled the air as Knock Out continued to tease you. As you wiggled against his thigh to try to get any sort of relief you mentally cursed him for denying you release yet again.
His optics bore into you as he filed away your reactions to his various techniques for later and you couldn’t help but feel more aroused as his servo returned to your clit and he gave it one last rough stroke. “Now.”
And at that simple command you let out a broken sob and writhed against his servo as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Afterwards you lay against his thigh, your legs twitching occasionally as you regained your breath before struggling to sit upright. Knock Out helped you and then removed your bonds and you rolled your shoulders to get feeling back into your arms, they were a little numb.
You tried to get a good look at the new marks on your legs and raised an eyebrow. “K.O.?” You asked.
“Simple and to the point.” And there was that damned smirk again. “It’ll help you to remember who you listen to.” At that your face flushed and you gave a quick nod.
“I should head back, I want to try to get some sleep before work.” You grumbled as you moved to get off of him.
“Try not to dream of me too much tonight.” Knock Out called to you as you grabbed what remained of your clothes off the floor. You had learned quickly to keep spare outfits in your trunk and gave him a half-hearted wave as he watched you leave. He made a mental note to try to figure out what other dormant kinks you had before he stood and stretched, getting ready to depart himself.