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Author's Note: This story is based on my role-playing account for Quintus Prime on Tumblr! Some backstory: she's currently heavily sparked up with a batch of little femmes, and this is taking a toll both on her frame and her sex life. So why not give the poor femme a break? If you're wondering why I am using feminine pronouns, that is merely how I portray Quintus. If you do not like this, please do not read. Otherwise, enjoy! There will be more in this series of Primes Behaving Badly, mostly starring Quintus. c:
Restless nights. That was all the past few cycles had been. The newsparks within her middle were growing steadily, maturing as they should. While four was a rather uncommon number to carry, this was also Quintus Prime. The Prime of Creation, so who better to carry a little gaggle of femmes than herself? According to her nursemaids, the newsparks were just beginning to form their protoform. By now a carrier would just be showing, but for Quintus, she was past showing. After Megatronus had kindly pointed out her 'looking as if she swallowed a comet,' the scientist was a little more sensitive about her appearance. So more time than usual was spent viewing herself in the bath, how her once smooth middle was now swollen with life.
According to the scans, she would become larger when the newsparks finally developed into small sparkings. Primus help me, she thought. Though her frame did seem to be adjusting quickly, her already wide hips becoming more proportionate to prepare for the lengthy emergence that would follow in a few Earth months. Quintus' chest plating had also swollen some, most likely due to the changes the Emberstone had wrought on her frame. It certainly had a sense of humor for a Primal Artifact. If she were fortunate, it would allow her to rest.
But no matter how much she lay in bed, or rather rolled, due to her large middle, the charge would not decrease. She was in no state to spar, and leaving the ship for more than an hour was out of the question. Just standing for prolonged periods of time increased the pain in her lower back. Spending more time in the bath, soothing her aching joints had prompted her increased mirror time.
Not wanting another bath, the Prime chose to sit up on her plush berth. The amount of pillows needed had substantially increased, and there were days when she merely got lost in a feathery wonderland. That is, when the newsparks weren't fluttering up a storm within her. It usually took her attention off the charge, to feel the movement within her. But on this night, they seemed unnaturally quiet. This made it difficult to focus on anything other than the broiling charge within her. What could she do to rid herself of it? All options she had done previously to release excess charge could not be executed, due to her physical state.
Well, there was one thing. The thought caused a light cerulean flush to cross the Prime's cheek plating, desperately trying to push it out of her processor. Was she really that desperate, to fall to such a new low? She really regretted stopping at that lingerie store, and purchasing more than a few...questionable things. They were tucked safely underneath her berth, but she doubted she could fit the small silk set she had bought so long ago. But there was something else, something that would certainly fit. With a little preparation, her processor whispered. Furiously shaking her helm, Quintus crossed both sets of arms over her chest plating. Which promptly caused friction against the sensitive metal, making her squeak softly. It was more sensitive than usual, as were her thighs, hips...valve. Yes, she had one.
The Thirteen may had been created a millenia ago, but they were the basis of all Cybertronians. Solus was the first specific femme frame, while Quintus held a mix between the two. That was why she merely had a valve, and not both a spike and a valve as mecha usually did.
Her processor was betraying her, and now her frame was as well. The memories of the first night she tried out her purchases came to mind.
Silk against gold and white plating. It was a deep shade of blue, almost black, but light enough to match the glow of her biolights. Apparently these garments were popular among organics, and slowly it spread to Cybertron. The colonies fortunate enough to not be touched by the war found this commodity to be very popular and promising. No one looked twice when she purchased them, as the Primes were nothing more than myth. None suspected one would be alive, much less in a lingerie store.
The silk undergarments were surprisingly flexible, fitting around her wide hips and bared valve. It caused delicious friction, and more than once the femme toyed with it, slowly dragging the material back and forth across her sensitive orifice. When it was sufficiently soaked through, Quintus took out her other, more lewd purchase. A rather large false spike, with a line within that would simulate transfluid jetting out when activated. It was black, and incredibly thick. Just the thought of trying to take it made her shiver, but not from fear. From anticipation. All she needed to do to reach a strong overload was adhere it to any surface, and ride it to completion. It was rather dirty, but she secretly loved it.
Out of all of her siblings, Quintus was definitely the last one would think had a lingerie kink. She enjoyed defacing her pure image, but only in secret, and by herself. If her siblings were to know, they would likely tease her about it. Or maybe join in. There had been many times that she would have eagerly volunteered to be taken by Megatronus. He was easily more handsome than Liege Maximo, and even Prima knew this. But they all kept quiet out of respect for each other.
Pedes curling in excitement, Quintus loaded the false spike with the gel, as well as putting plenty of lubricant on it. It would be easier to insert that way, and luckily her wide hips would provide an easier entry. The thought of it hitting her ceiling node made her valve leak all over again, but the mess didn't phase the frisky Prime. She quickly followed the instructions, adhering it to the base of her berth. This would allow her to position it elsewhere if needed, and be right next to the berth in case of a processor-fritzing overload.
She imagined to herself that the spike belonged to a large mech, possibly a miner or dock worker. It didn't matter she was Quintus Prime, she was just another femme in need of a rough frag. Her lubricant dripped eagerly down her thighs in rivulets as she positioned herself over it, the tip pressing firmly against her tight entrance. She worried if she tried any sort of preparation, the thick girth wouldn't feel as good. But it did. Biting her lip as she sank down, her callipers slowly-
Thump. That was the sound of her removing the small mantle she wore on her hips, that controlled the tendrils covering most of her lower frame. Immediately they retracted, revealing the attractive and shapely legs of the Prime. She had been created masterfully, and it showed in her plating. But right now that wasn't what was on her mind. She was panting heavily, frame tingling with pent up charge. Her covered valve cycled down on nothing, an itch deep inside growing steadily. She needed it. Without hesitation she opened the box stashed underneath her berth, pulling out the jet black spike. It was prepped from its last use long ago, so at least she wouldn't have to worry about refilling the transfluid line. Her door was locked, everything was seemingly calm, except for her raging libido.
The memory had made her arousal skyrocket, and she didn't care anymore. Frag everything, she needed to be spiked by someone, something, anything. Her carrying cycle was certainly to blame for this spike in her libido, as before she generally had thorough control over it. But now, all she was focusing on what that false spike. No fantasies, no lingerie, just raw pleasure.
It adhered, and she would've rode it immediately if it were not for her newsparks. If she were to do so, it could potentially harm her swollen nodes, and newsparks never reacted well to their carrier in pain. So she dutifully retracted her panel, not even able to see her valve due to her middle. Had she been able to, it would have likely made the Prime flush more than she already was.
Her valve was swollen, easily visible to the optic as needy and dripping. Attractive silver folds were decorated with dancing biolights, minute runes decorating the edges like they did her middle. Perhaps they were for fertility, or for pleasure. Either way, she was going to make good use of her equipment for once.
Using the berth to support her frame, she leaned against it. This way she could keep her balance as she rode the false spike, or if the pleasure became too much for her, she could lay down. Certainly this time it was likely to happen, as her stamina did not equal the charge built up in her frame. She either overload hard once or twice, or she would have to take care of it when her frame recovered. For now, Quintus settled with using her own appendages to bring about an overload.
One slender digit brushed the engorged node above her valve, immediately sending shocks of pleasure throughout her frame. Very sensitive. Quintus continued in her exploration, the lone digit tracing the edges of her drenched folds. With all the lubricant she was producing, it was likely she wouldn’t need much preparation. The stretch and slight burn that came with it made her valve clenching hungrily on nothing, more pale lubricant leaking its way between her legs.
It had been so long since she had felt anyone’s touch, especially her own. While Quintus wasn’t celibate, she was slightly chaste. She became flustered easily at the thought of interface, and seldom allowed curses to fall past her lips, even when extremely frustrated. Her disheveled appearance certainly contradicted the solemn and quiet Prime that all knew.
One digit became two, tentatively dipping into her hot valve. The response was immediate, valve clenching down around the intruding digits. They were wanting something much thicker, but preparation was needed. Perhaps an overload or two. There was much charge built up, so it was likely her interfacing session would last a few hours. Pressing in deeper, the Prime let out a shaky gasp as her inner nodes were finally brushed. The tingling was still there, a burn that would only be quenched with her toy. At least there was some stimulation to help get her off.
Not very experienced in self-service, Quintus took her time exploring the soaking cavity that enveloped her digits in a warm embrace. Within her calipers glowed a deep blue, flashing whenever a particularly sensitive spot was located. The ceiling nodes at the back of her valve were out of reach, but the false spike was there for that. Soft whines left her as she pumped her digits in and out, keeping a gentle but firm pace. Lubricant covered her wrist joint by now, a testament to just how turned on she was. She tried to stave off her overload, but it came as quickly as it left. Gold optics flared white from raw pleasure, valve tightening reflexively around her digits. More of a mess was created from the lubricant dribbling out from her overload, but she cared little. The charge was still there.
Her charge would no doubt build back up quickly, but for now, she would gently coax it back instead of riding the false spike until she could not walk. As much as she wanted that, it would be difficult to explain to her nursemaids why the Prime remained in bed. Surely she wasn’t that far along yet? But she looked it.
Gently tracing her swollen middle with her clean servo, the other traced along her thighs and chest plating. They were easily as sensitive as her valve, but the pleasure would not be such a raw assault. The tips of her digits danced lightly across sensitized plating, gradually revving her frame up for another, possibly the last, round. Especially the area over her spark, swollen like her valve. Soft caresses held no tickling feeling like they usually did, this time warming her lower half. Quintus had attempted to clean off the residue from her first overload, but it was quickly being replaced with more lubricant. It seemed her frame had no means of stopping it. There would have to be another shower.
Rolling her bright optics for a moment, Quintus shifted against the side of her berth. Sitting like this was beginning to make her lower back sore, but it was better than being on her back. Not only would she be unable to see what she was doing, she would not be able to sit up to properly clean up the evidence. Now that would be embarrassing.
Her attention then turned to the jet black spike, obviously appraising her taste in color and styling. It was enough to stimulate all her nodes at once, stretch her wide, and ultimately bring her to a hard overload. That was just what she needed in this situation. Spreading her this in an inviting matter, Quintus’ digits gently spread her folds. It was going to be a tight fit, as always, regardless of her preparation. But that was what made it extra sweet, the pleasurable sensation of being pushed to one’s limits.
When fully sheathed on the spike, she would be able to sit comfortably on her legs. For now, she would use her knees and the berth as a support to thrust. Gravity would bring her slamming back down, the back of her valve and outer node equally stimulated by the spike’s many ridges. It was definitely a good upgrade from its plain predecessor.
A small bit of the Prime’s lubricant dropped onto the head of the spike below, her excitement getting the better of her. It would at least assist in getting the head past her tight calipers. Lowering down ever so slightly, Quintus bit her lip to stifle any noises. The head brushed her outer node, a muffled moan sounding in the empty room. More lowering, the head finally penetrated her first caliper. Spinal array arching in pleasure, the Prime was unable to hide her soft squeal. Digits had nothing on this spike, no matter how thick they were.
Though the thought of riding a large mech’s digits like a spike did appeal to her.
More gasps and moans left her as she sunk deeper, calipers eagerly parting to allow the spike inside. Her hips stopped around halfway, where it began to thick substantially. Already the spike was pressed against her ceiling node, making her valve quiver. She’d taken the entirety of the thing before; there was no reason she could not do it now. It would take more time, as usual.
It was difficult to restrain herself from slamming her frame downward, but she was able to resist. For the time being. Starting out slowly, Quintus used her grip on the berth to help lift herself up, and then sink back down. Each ridge seemed to catch her swollen nodes and calipers perfectly, reducing the Prime to a panting mess. No way was she going to last another round. Her thrusts were gentle as before, valve gladly taking in each section of the spike as it went. It was to say that she was good at taking larger packages…
The base was the thickest section, and also the hardest to overcome. Heh. Her thrusts had taken on a faster edge, but still gentle enough as to not bruise anything. Optics bright, jaw slack, a slight amount of oral fluids leaking from her lips, the Prime was a pretty sight. She was past caring if anyone found her, and if they were certain mechs, she’d gladly let them join. Plating tingled with building charge, Quintus making up her processor to go just a bit harder.
It felt like she was being electrocuted whenever the tip of the spike inside her slammed into her ceiling node, which was occurring with nearly every thrust. Her peak was fast approaching, but there was still some bit of the spike to take in. The thrusts had easily opened her calipers up to take most of the toy, but she wanted more. Needed more. Removing her hold from the berth, Quintus allowed the weight of her frame to bring her down the rest of the way. A choked groan left her lips, nearly going slack at the feeling of being so full. She neglected to do this often, why exactly?
The feeling was sublime, her hips working at a frenzy to keep herself from overloading without hitting the right spots. That spike dove into her valve with each thrust, disappearing in a flash of white armor. The sounds her valve was making were incredibly lewd, only inaudible by the rising pitch of her voice. She was close, and the thick spike filling her was not helping.
On the moment she overloaded, Quintus felt the built-in transfluid mod activate. It was warm thanks to the sheer heat coming from her valve, and simulated a simultaneous overload by sensing when the valve around it tightened suddenly without warning. That generally was a sign of overload, or at least the bot was close to it. Generally when one partner overloaded, the other quickly followed. The toy made it so that its partner was not left out in overload.
The brand of transfluid it came with was rather thick, filling her insides up before a solid thought could be processed. This was honestly her favorite part, besides the initial penetration. The feeling of hot transfluid coating the inside of her valve, and sometimes even her gestational tank, was very satisfying. Quintus’ cry of release elevated to sharp binary, vocalizer unable to share her pleasure in any other way. Valve eagerly milking the toy inside her, she had to lean against the berth while her overload dissipated.
Well, that was something. She ached in the most pleasant of ways, not wanting to lift herself off her beloved toy. But there was no way she could go another round. Perhaps the charge had dissipated enough, but stamina wasn’t one of her strong suits. Groaning softly, her legs flexed to life herself off the mess she had made on the floor. Transfluid and lubricant immediately followed, though it was obvious the artificial fluid had thickened it all somewhat.
It meant it would most likely stay deep in her valve until her frame either absorbed it, or it was washed out. Either way, its presence was meant to act as a reminder of interface, and to sinfully stimulate the deepest sensors. Every movement would make the fluid shift, not giving the user a break.
Lower back popping as she fully stood, Quintus surveyed the mess she had made. Lubricant, transfluid, possible scuff marks from her knees on the floor. Totally easy to clean up. She’d leave it to the drones, her frame was sore. Pleasurably so, but carrying made it difficult to stand up for long periods of time, especially as she grew larger. At least the tingling in the back of her valve had been sated, as well as the charge. Definitely something to consider doing again, perhaps with a partner.
Scanning her frame, she noted all the lubricant stains and transferred paint. No way was she leaving her room looking like this. The lubricant would wash off, but the paint would be difficult to explain. Hm. She was bent over organizing something, and got stuck. There. No one would question the carrying Prime’s inability to move with her gravid middle.
Right now she needed a shower. And you know what, she wasn’t even mad.