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Drift twitched weakly under Perceptor’s weight, the side of his face pressed against the berth as he panted, slack jawed and limp; by now he doubted if he’d have been able to support his weight anyway, but Perceptor had taken that option form him earlier, cuffing his servos behind his back, one of his servos holding them tightly, whilst the other kept his hips pulled up in the air. Honestly, if Perceptor wasn’t holding him in place, Drift would have collapsed ages ago.
They’d been at it for... Well he’d lost track of time, but Drift was steadily approaching his, perhaps eighth overload? And it seemed like Perceptor was getting close to another, if the slightly more erratic thrusts were anything to go by. Several more deep thrusts and once more, Perceptor was still, flush to his aft while his spike jerked out even more transfluid into Drift’s already overfull valve. It had been leaking from his array for a while, the copious amounts of fluid forced out on overload, then spilled even more when perceptor would pick up the pace again. The sheer volume had even triggered the archaic transformation sequence at the base of Drift’s valve, opening up the redundant gestation chamber, which had been easily filled to capacity a couple of overloads ago.
Drift whined weakly when more transfluid tried to fit into his valve and chamber, shivering when it once again had nowhere to go but to push past his valve rim, trickling hotly down his thighs and towards his depressurised spike. He’d run out of his own transfluid reserves about three overloads in, and was now left squirming in his own sticky mess, while his limp, oversensitive spike brushed the berth with perceptor’s harsh thrusts.
“According to my systems, I have approximately enough transfluid left for two more overloads, if that is acceptable to you?” Perceptor huffed, though still sounded far too collected for how many overloads he’d surely had, but then again that was the purpose of this entire episode: he had ridiculous stamina, and whilst Drift could overload once and be happy and sated with it, Perceptor found he wasn’t anywhere near so easily pleased, but after a few overloads he lacked the necessary reserves to continue to perform. So here they were, after Perceptor had tinkered with something and primus knew how many overloads he’d had but he was finally starting to show some signs of tiring out.
The cuffs were just a personal kink to indulge in.
Drift couldn’t even mumble a reply, though managed to weakly nod, smearing his cheek in oral lubricant that had dribbled out and pooled next to his helm. He’d desperately need a shower after this, though wasn’t entirely sure if he’d even be able to sit up, let alone make it to the washracks.
Obviously seeing his answer, Perceptor began to move yet again, the fluid within Drift sloshing to fill the space on the outward stroke, only to be pushed back in again when perceptor drove his hips forward. It was too wet and slippery to feel any sort of friction, though Drift’s charge was being constantly maintained by the full, unrelenting pressure put on his sensor nodes, and it only took another couple of stroke, and sloshes over highly primed nodes, and he was twitching in overload again, a tiny burst of static as he tried, and failed, to moan.
A short moment and once again, Perceptor was filling him, audibly huffing in exhaustion, and Drift knew they’d have to try this agin, in a position that would allow him to see the other’s face. A few more strokes resulted in another shuddering overload for Drift, and he could tell by the new pacing that Perceptor was going to try and time it so that they shared their final climax together.
He was too tired to be startled, when Perceptor shifted to lie over him, servos moving to stroke up and down his abdomen as his thrusts picked up in time with Drift’s growing charge. He was dimly aware of a murmuring in his audio, and it sounded like a question but Drift was too far gone to know what it was. He nodded anyway, trusting in whatever Perceptor had in mind, and shivered at the long lick along his helm fin, the new sensation enough to tip him into climax again, just as Perceptor thrust one final time, pushing both of their hips up to minimise the amount of fluid that could escape.
They stayed like that a moment, both panting and covered in their shared fluids, whilst Perceptor came to his senses a little. He pulled back, and as he pulled his slowly depressurising spike out, tipped Drift’s own hip up further, the movement of fluids making Drift whimper slightly. He jolted minutely when a glossa came to trace the outside of his valve, cleaning up a tiny fraction of the mess, and when it pulled away he was faintly amused to feel a hard, rounded object tracing it’s way around the rim instead. So he wanted to play that game did he. Well that was fine, after all neither of them had a shift tomorrow, so they could clean up, and play more the following day.
The hard object, a plug Perceptor had shyly suggested to him a while ago, slowly began to push into Drift’s valve, the unyielding shape tapered and bigger than Perceptor’s own spike. There was a slight discomfort as the largest part forced it’s way through, and then relief as his rim shrank back over the thinner part, the plug firmly in place, pushing against the first nodes of his valve, but more importantly, keeping all the fluid locked in. The last time they’d played with this, Perceptor had filled him with several small strange, pseudo-organic creations, that had buzzed and shifted and moved, fluttering within him the entire orn, until he’d managed to track the scientist down and get them removed in order to frag him through the berth.
Drift could only whimper more at the sensations; the plug wasn’t as large as Perceptor’s spike, which allowed the fluid a little more room to move freely. The continual movement meant that nodes were kept sensitised, and the opening to his gestation chamber kept making small attempts to transform shut again, which in turn caused the fluid to move, in turns causing the chamber to iris open fully. It was a cycle which had his charge rising even now, after an entire day of interfacing, though thankfully neither of them had much more energy in them to be able to utilise it right that moment. Perceptor gently uncuffed him, and finally dropped his hips, at which point Drift could do nothing more than collapse to the berth, uncaring of the mess he was lying in, and he murmured a hum of appreciation when Perceptor rearranged them, his back to the scientist’s chest while servos gently ran along his frame.
A soft brush to his still exposed spike caused a soft moan, though the servos finally settled over his distended abdomen, the sheer amount of transfluid trapped in his chamber causing his plating to warp ever so slightly-not enough to really be visible, but certainly enough that Perceptor’s familiar, and sensitive servos could feel the difference. Drift was barely able to stay awake long enough for Perceptor to snuggle even closer, and wish him a pleasant recharge, and he was shutting down even whilst he mumbled a soft reply.