Medical Kink - Tumblr Posts

Well, the fanon on sensitive medics' hands must have a bit more potential than just foreplaying with them.

Pharma must have at least considered the possibility of calibrating his sensors and training the whole neuronet in a way that will give him the ability to use his fingers as a complete spike substitute. So he could cum not only from the excitement of touching Ratchet, but also by fingering him and feeling the stimulation. Rubbing on Ratchet's nodes must give the right feedback to get his mind foggy. And how this valve must spasm, making the digits inside stiffen in familiar but shockingly new pleasure.

Oh, and Ratchet would absolutely HAVE to acknowledge Pharma's genius. This new horizon of medicine, to which the better doctor is gallantly leading his beloved colleague.

Shame that Ratchet's never shown any sign of interest. And without him even breakthroughs such as this feel worthless.

Όπτιμους ἀνέστη! Happy Easter. I will burn in hell.

TFP Optimus gives a messy egg-birth. Ratchet is here too.

Flying into the Well of All Sparks, Optimus was ready to sacrifice himself, or at least what he's grown used to think of as himself, his frail, mortal form of metal and wires. He was prepared to merge with Primus. Apparently, Primus had other plans.

It started with warm airflow embracing him near the end of the Well, permeating his armor like it was paper thin, overwhelming him, igniting and soothing at the same time, and finally carrying him lightly back to the surface. It continued with his friends' confused happiness. And this new fuzzy feeling, and Ratchet's concern, and a discovery. Oh, the discovery. Optimus Prime not only came back alive. He came back full of eggs.

Living, precious sparks, nested in their vacuoles and soft, translucent shells, were growing inside his gestation tank. The organ designed to incubate one to several eggs has expanded to embrace the holy gift. Ratchet tried to count them but failed. There were just a lot, mostly blue, but some green, pink, and yellow.

Ratchet's medical fascination mixed with religious awe. The more he observed and studied the unique case of his Prime, the deeper it got, even though he had to face things that had to be left out of the equation for others. Medical confidentiality was a thing when it came to Optimus' increasing sexual appetite, to him constantly being on the verge of arousal due to being stuffed in a quite pleasurable way, to his gestation tank pressing on his waste reservoir and making the messiah of Primus visit the waste receiver twice a day. Optimus' increased energon consumption was less of a sensitive issue, yet he was still uncomfortable drinking this much openly, so Ratchet had to watch him fuel in private to control his ration.

So much stayed behind the closed doors of the medbay during Optimus' daily scheduled check-ups. So many little… inconveniences.

When Ratched had Optimus in the examination chair once again, everything seemed noticeably more intense. Optimus seemed more nervous and tired, and he told Ratchet about feeling so full that he was afraid to move. Even his waist plating looked slightly pushed from the inside. He lubricated copiously, letting out oily pink droplets, and the valve visibly throbbed so hard Ratchet called for all his medical professionalism not to growl in frustration and want. He was lying to himself about it being just fascination and awe. Fascination and awe never leave you with your spike in hand after your friend's and leader's daily check-up, moaning and thinking about his heavily pregnant tank.

Ratchet prepared the endoscope, and Optimus tensed. "It's going in," Ratchet informed him, trying to sound calm.

When the head of the endoscope touched the eagerly unfurling petals of Optimus' valve, there was a sound of a small piece of armor retracting. Ratchet tried not to stare at the spike pressurizing, instead focusing on Optimus' frantic apologies. It's alright. They'd been there. No need to feel ashamed. But holy Primus, fuck, how big this spike was, and how big the valve below was, and how smoothly it took the endoscope.

"Ratchet, please, stop." He complied immediately, detecting almost pleading undertones in the strained low voice. Optimus growled, and his hips jerked uncontrollably, grinding on the probing device. "I'm sorry, but I feel like my waste tank may give. The sparks are pressing on it."

"Then we should empty it before it's damaged," Ratchet told him, the phrasing felt odd and ridiculous but was aimed to comfort Optimus, highlighting him being aided and taken care of. The endoscope slid slowly in and out, stimulating the nodes where the tube connecting the waste tank with a small nozzle next to the valve lay close to the inner interface equipment, intertwined with its tubing and energon lines.

Optimus shuddered, and moaned, and started pouring the floor before the examination chair with periwinkle blue fluid. It arched between his legs, soiling Ratchet's hand still holding the endoscope. It wasn't the first time a patient voided the doctor, damn, they've been through the war quite horror-rich, but it was the first time Ratchet didn't really mind.

"I need a sample anyway," he said, grabbing a test tube from a tray and catching the stream with it. It did little to dispel Optimus' embarrassment, but at least it was true and gave Ratchet his pitiful excuse to watch closely his Prime peeing with, with the endoscope inside, open, ready to lay his blessed eggs.

Oh yes, he was ready. As soon as he stopped emptying himself and Ratchet took his hand away to clean it alongside the tool, his body spasmed like it was welcoming a long-denied overload. "Ratchet, I feel my destination almost…" He groaned, not from pain. "They are coming, I cannot hold them anymore."

"No, damn, Optimus, w-wait a minute!"

Ratchet rushed to the shelf, where awaited the basket, voluminous enough to accommodate a prime clutch and padded with soft material. Two seconds later, he found Optimus mindlessly stroking his spike, trying to distract himself and relieve the tension at the same time. His plating noisily rattled against the chair, his broken whimpers made Ratchet's mind dizzifyingly spin and Ratchet's panels open, but Ratchet was left with little time to care. He saw Optimus' valve squirting a jet of lubricant, his whole body contracting, and a first butch of divine eggs falling wetly into the basket.

They were magnificent. Glowing, warm, colorful, fertilized by Primus, and coming from Optimus' overloading valve. Ratchet didn't hear his own praises and prayers, only Optimus' powerful engine roaring, his cooling fans whirring, his shaky in-vents, and beautiful strangled grunts escaping his voice box.

With his own spark pulsing and his spike throbbing, Ratchet held the basket with one hand, using the other to touch the seam between Optimus' thigh and hip plating to draw attention to himself. "You alright, Optimus? Any pain now?"

"I am fine, my friend. How are… they?"

"Perfect, you… You are doing wonderful," Ratchet reassured, the container in his hand was getting heavier and heavier. Optimus' hand never left his own spike, and Ratchet surrendered too. Powerless before the spectacle of life and pleasure and how badly it aroused him, he placed the basket on the floor, right in the puddle, and quickly stroked himself until the blinding overload made him moan and grab Optimus' leg.

It took a couple minutes more and two more small overloads for Optimus to tense in a final one, his spike spilling intensely, his frame using every output to dump the charge. He was crying.

The basket was full, the eggs piled in it, glowing. Each spark was visible inside, each had its own unique song. Ratchet and Optimus, both calming down, could already sense their energy and life.

A gift, a treasure. The future.

If you knew how many nasty medical kink ideas parade through my brain, you'd feel pity for me. Today it's Spinister giving Fulcrum a bottom surgery, part 1/2. The procedure of reformatting Fulcrum into a K-con was quick and rough. Living weapon production prioritizes rate and efficiency over individual approach and actually making it comfortable for patients. Fulcrum heard about those who got their post-reformatting dysphoria so awful they asked to be used as fast as possible, ironically, not because of their passion for The Cause. Maybe it was done this way on purpose.

Some of Fulcrum's components have felt like not sitting right since the reformation. And now, when the war is over, it hits even harder, but it's not the worst issue. The worst is that now he doesn't have to die and can enjoy life for a little while, before they run into the DJD again. But he's missing some parts designed for life enjoyment. Long story short, his spike and valve are long gone, his interface panel is sealed.

That's what he told Spinister, who is now working between his legs. Fulcrum's sensors below his waist are shut down, so it's a loud "A-ha!" that tells him the seal's finally come off. Spinister clicks, eyeing the bare array.

"Dirty work," he says, sounding amused. Fulcrum is looking now too, and the whole thing is… unsettling. Dented, crumpled metal. Melted wiring. Well, maybe Fulcrum shouldn't feel shy about Spinister staring at his junk, because there's no junk, technically. This thought is not helping, though.

"They uprooted your fun parts but left the spike housing in place. The juice system seems fine too," Spinister's finger is pointing at a hole with rippled edges that used to be a spike housing. "I can't restore your hoo-ha and ding-dong, sorry, no spare materials. But I can make a neo-cunny from your spike housing. If I fix the tubing, you'll get all nice and wet when horny again! I just need to rewire it here and ri-ight there. You like being spiked?"

Heat washes through Fulcrum's energon vessels in a wave. And maybe it's a glitch in his audio processing, but Spinister sounds… suggestive?

"You mean you can create a valve?" Fulcrum asks hesitantly.

"Short and cute one, yeah!"

Short and cute sounds better than nothing at all. And to be honest, Fulcrum really liked being spiked back then.

So, for the next half an hour, he's staring at the ceiling with his sensors still numb and only his spread-out pose and Spinister's soft humming telling him about the magic being performed. When they're finished, he's hesitating again, not sure if he's ready to see the result now. Maybe it's better to thank the doc, close his panels, and explore himself (in any way it takes) in the safety of his hab. But Spinister's "C'mon, look, that's a cute one" makes him in-vent deeply. And look.

And oh damn, it's a valve. Placed where his spike used to be. Smaller than his old one. But it's definitely a valve, with delicate petals tightly closed over it. Even a small node is visible below the entrance. Could be a beautiful minibot cunt, Fulcrum thinks, feeling weirdly hot. He's not a narcissist or shit, no, but seeing his own array functional again fills him with so much happiness that it quickly transforms into excitement, then into arousal. With his sensors awoken back through the medical panel, he can feel his neo-valve fucking TINGLING.

"Wanna give it a test drive?" Spinister asks, admiring his work and reaching with his finger to touch. Fulcrum nods weakly and pushes his hips up. And oh, he's feeling, he's feeling it.

Lubricant's oozing out while Spinister's big fingertip's circling the external lining, testing the sensitivity, or teasing, or toying, or everything at the same time. When his pad brushes the node and slips lower, the fleshy petals stick tightly around his phalange, and Fulcrum's overloading. His insides are clenching. Mechanisms that used to help his spike pressurize are spasming haltingly, as if confused by their new function. So odd and sweet at the same time. Fulcrum can't hold back a whine.

Spinister lets him catch his breath for several seconds before standing up, but not to move away.

"See, it worked," he says, his plating proudly (or eagerly?) puffing up. "I'll spike you now, right?"

God, I love erotic vivisection. If only we could have as much erotic vivisection as we have "rough sex".

I'm absolutely here for Shockwave experimenting on others. Sexually. Could I know more?

Shockwaves experiments can range from simple things like testing just how much transfluid a bot can produce. He does this by having a little mess with a subjects code (nothing permanent of course) and making it so their systems produce transfluid until the subjects frame physically can’t anymore, and then collecting the transfluid in various measuring cylinders. This can also serve as and experiment on endurance as previous subjects have passed out and woke up with an aching spike still producing transfluid

Shockwave would also experiment with how much force a valves callipers can apply by having a subject sit on a modified false spike which takes PSI readings through the various stages of self service and overload, Shockwave then makes all sorts of graphs because of course he does

Shockwave has also done the above experiments on himself

I have another of Shockwaves experiments but it’s going under the cut since it contains surgical play (which I think is the best way to describe it) and might not be everyone’s cup of tea

Shockwave has experimented with swapping his subjects pain and pleasure signals around, partially to see if he could create more effective soldiers using this method and partially just to see if he can

His subject would be strapped down to a table and as Shockwave cuts away the plating of their torso they’re horrified to find that it’s pleasure unlike anything else, and when they protest what they’re feeling Shockwave reaches down to caress their valve ever so gently and it’s agony unlike anything the bot has ever felt. The subject finds themself begging Shockwave to carry on cutting them open until energon stains the table around them and their internals are under Shockwaves keen scrutiny. It all stops for a moment as Shockwave checks his subjects vitals before dipping two fingers into the squishy tubing laced around the subjects body cavity, this all eventually ends with Shockwave up on the table spiking his subjects internals as the subject writhes in ecstasy beneath him

There’s also a second phase of this experiment, in which Shockwave studies whether the experiment causes his subjects sexual preferences to change, and if there’s a possibility a subject could eventually have those pain and pleasure responses swapped without Shockwave ever needing to touch their coding

Ooooh Doctor be gentle......

bye

Haha, Gave myself an injection (One of my prescribed meds), and I got wet from that. @~@

*scientist voice* oh you're so cute *injects you with mysterious fluids*

THIS BLOG IS 18+ MINORS DNI

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About me:

mutt

he/they/it

22

queer transsexual

I post nsfw content and occasional gore

kinks:

degradation, age gaps, pet play, piss, breeding, gangbang, creampies, overstimulation, free use, forced orgasm, orgasm denial/edging, humiliation, exhibitionism, multiple penetration, pain play, knife/blood play, medical play, cnc, somno, branding, and probably more