*//RUN:amputate.exe//*: //RUN:amputate.exe

Warnings:Let's see… SQUICK, non-con, violence, and bondage.
Word count: 1273

A/N: Prequel to “Tell Me…”

~ ~ ~

Hook was prepped and ready when Shockwave came down to the private operating room. He waved off the surgeon's greeting and the offer of pain suppression, climbing onto the inclined table and swinging both his legs into the stirrups. It was not only a very compromising position, but also left him extremely vulnerable should Hook decide to take advantage of the situation and permanently offline him. Unfortunately, given the nature of the operation, it was absolutely necessary for him to allow the Constructicon full access to his pelvic region.

“Discretion is paramount,” Shockwave had told the surgeon when he first approached him. “No one else is to be informed. All details about this matter are to be kept confidential. The only parties to be involved are you and I. You are to remove it as quickly as possible. I do not want even a trace of it left. And, unless absolutely critical, I will remain conscious during the whole procedure.”

Hook's reply had been a curt nod and an “appointment” to see him later in his private quarters. During this meeting, the surgeon had outlined what was to be expected during the operation as well as all the potential risks both during and afterwards. When Shockwave had asked about the matter of payment, Hook only gave him a vague statement about working out the details later. He then made a half-hearted effort to dissuade his commander from going through with the procedure, citing several rather unscientific reasons, but Shockwave was adamant.

“It serves no function,” he explained coldly. “The upkeep and usage of these components are a waste of both my valuable time and energy. It is nothing more than a pointless diversion. It is also gratuitous at this stage in Cybertronian development, a useless evolutionary throwback. Therefore, logically, it must be gotten rid of for the sake of improved efficiency.”

And so here they were. Shockwave with his legs splayed wide open in the air and Hook sliding in between them with a tray of gleaming surgical tools easily within reach of his eager fingertips. Reaching up, the surgeon started to engage the stirrups' restraints.

“Is that necessary, Hook?” interrupted Shockwave.

“Yes. Any sudden motions could result in complications.” With that, Hook strapped Shockwave's legs firmly into the stirrups, hands running down to his thighs. Palms flat against the more sensitive inner plating, he pushed the commander's legs even further apart and exposing the junctions of his hips. They lingered there for a little while, fingers dipping in to stroke at the delicate wiring and joint sockets.

It was… strangely and arousing, but Shockwave rationalized the fingering as being more prep work.

Next, Hook's hands went from hips to wrists, shackling them down tightly then repeated this procedure for the upper part of his arms. Last was the collar restraint, which Hook took his time engaging, his fingers lingering on the cables of Shockwave's neck as he attached a diagnostics input. Once satisfied that his patient was immobile, Hook slid his hands across Shockwave's breast plate and then up underneath his back, ghosting fingertips across the seams. The surgeon's fingers glided over the spinal assemble, snapping open access ports to attach more diagnostic cables and fluid intake tubes.

Shockwave couldn't hold back a small, displease groan when the surgeons hands moved away to reach for his tools. He watched those long, black fingers skim lightly over each instrument, caressing each one almost tenderly before selecting a small laser scalpel. His entire attention was now focused on that one slender tool.

“One last time,” Hook asked quietly, scalpel now poised to slice into the panel seal. “Are you certain that you wish to remain online?”

“Yes.”

“And are you certain you do not want pain suppression? It would be relatively easy to shut down all sensation to this region…”

“No.” The word rang out crisply. “I want to know exactly what you are doing every step of the procedure.”

“Oh my!” gasped Hook, now twirling the scalpel deftly in those fingers. “The way you're acting, one would think I was going to cut out your manifold…”

Shockwave glared his tone even flatter than normal. “Are we ready to begin, Hook?”

“As you command.” With a snap of his fingers, the scalpel was again at the ready and Hook leaned down to work. Placing his free hand directly over Shockwave's codpiece, he sliced around the outer seam to remove it. He set it aside, and then moved on to the inner panel, which came off with one sharp tug, exposing the hypersensitive interface mechanism.

“I've never seen a better maintained unit…” Hook muttered, running a finger across the port gasket. “Why, it looks practically new! No ozone corrosion, wire nodes properly connected, no bent pins... and what a large plug, too! A more insecure mech would be jealous… A bit scratched from use, but I guess even you gave in to the need…” He looked up his patient, smirking as he traced around the opening of Shockwave's port. “It'd be a shame not to use such a well kept device one last time. Besides, there's also the little matter of my fee…”

Shockwave stared at the surgeon, not fully able to understand the implications. Hook? Demanding sexual favors? If it had been Mixmaster, he wouldn't have been surprised at all. But for Hook to be propositioning him? It was outrageous! Yet logically, Mixmaster couldn't be the only Constructicon to have slept around outside his gestalt. And such needless exploitation—while useful as torture—was precisely one of the reasons Shockwave had requested to be emasculated in the first place. Unfortunately, he wasn't in a position to refuse the surgeon's advances.

With a swift motion, Hook slipped a pair of fingers into the socket and pushing it hard up the friction shaft with a quiet laugh of satisfaction at the way his patient strained to break free from the restraints. As he continued his brutal ramming, his other hand moved to Shockwave's plug-head, stroking the pins slowly. He pinched one of the long prongs between his fingers, lazily bending it back and forth, making his patient cry out in agony. Finally he snapped it off, and then repeated the process on the next prong...

“This really is fun, isn't it, sir?” Hook jeered as he pulled the plug-head out and started winding the cord tightly around his hand. “And do you want to know what the best part is? When I'm done, I don't have to worry about putting it all back together again…”

Jerking his arm back, the surgeon pulled violently on the cord until it finally ripped free of Shockwave's body. Tossing the cord away, Hook picked up a set of thin-nosed pliers and jammed them into the hole of the plug-housing. He twisted it around inside, catching hold of the stripped wires and tearing them out one by one, all the while still pistoning his fingers in and out of Shockwave's socket. The screams of the captive mech only made him laugh madly, optics shining with a sadistic glee as he put aside the pliers and switched back to the scalpel, carving apart delicate panels and nerve bundles with unnerving finesse.

Shockwave wasn't sure what happened afterwards, his last coherent thought being Hook's fingers—those vile, terrible fingers— hooking into his socket before tearing it out…

When he came back to consciousness, Shockwave was laying on the berth in his own quarters. There was a dull aching going through his entire frame, but he still managed to sit upright and examine himself. Despite the cost, Shockwave was quite pleased with Hook's handiwork.