So, this story is a collaborative idea that one of my readers, Ellmarr, came to me with.

The story idea, character concept and the story concept are all hers; I'm just the one stringing it all into a fully written story.

She gives me the concept and idea, and I convert it to writing with my own words.

This story is going to be containing a LOT of sexual content, including the dealing with of rape, sexual human/mech interactions and just a lot of general sexual context.

It is going to be a story for mature audiences, so FOR THE LOVE OF GOD please be mature. I do not want to have people reviewing just to say 'I don't like this type of story because blah, blah, blah'

Okay?

If you don't like the context of this story, then PLEASE just don't read it. I cannot stress that enough, people.

On the same note though, if you're enjoying it then by all means please drop a review. If you have ideas or things you want to see in the story, make sure you take it up with Ellmarr, because the plot of this story isn't mine.

Writing is mine, idea is hers. She's the one you have to talk to :)

Also, the updates for this story are going to be quite slow and possibly very infrequent, because I want to finish Primary Mechanisms before I fully devote myself to this one. I just wanted to get the Pilot Chapter up for Ellmarr, considering she'd waited so patiently for me to make a start on it.
Hope you all enjoy it.

"So how long do you estimate the travel time to be, Optimus?"

The Prime was quiet for a moment as he calculated his route back to base before he reactivated the com-link. "All things going well, I should be there by midday tomorrow. But this weather is causing a delay…"
"Hmm…weather reports in your location are claiming a severe storm. Apparently there's a hurricane a little distance from the area, not severe; but you're probably just experiencing the fringe of the storm."

Rain was pelting down on the windscreen of the Peterbilt, the dark night leaving his headlights as the only form of light in the blackness. The wind buffeted the outer of the truck and the ice cold of the sky-water causing a slight chill to the plating. Uncomfortable but by no means unbearable. As he rolled down the interstate he noticed a figure along the shoulder of the desert road with one arm stuck out bearing a thumb, a hitch-hiker looking to get out of the rain themself; but unfortunately he could not offer aid. It would be impractical to their government secret to allow a stranger in the cabin of a truck with no driver. As much as his nature wished to offer refuge for the human, he was bound by the metaphorical red-tape of the military.

Caught up in his musings, he failed to see the massive pool of water on the roadside until it was too late. Trying to swerve away at the last moment, he was still forced to drive through the enormous puddle and it arched up onto the wet dirt of the roadside. He hoped to Primus that the hitch-hiker had been far enough away from him to avoid getting further saturated.
"My scans show a rest-stop up ahead, Ratchet. I can't detect any life forms, but it's about a few miles ahead. I just passed a roadside information sign and it claims to have a truck-stop rest area."

"Good, you stasis for the night and hopefully the weather clears up. I can hear it over the com-link, it sounds quite violent."

A confirming sound travelled back to the medical officer and the two old friends exchanged a brief goodbye before the link disconnected.

True to his scan results, a light appeared on the horizon within only another 15 minutes or so of driving. However as he pulled up, he realised that the truck-stop had been long since abandoned. There was a disused gas station which the light source was coming from; exuding from a single, long abandoned outdoor light at the edge of the premises. All the undercover shelter including the station's main roof, was dilapidated and demolished, there was nothing for him to park under. A few vending machines were located near the building, but those were mostly empty and appeared out of order. The rain was making the ground soggy and his tyres sunk into the dirt a little bit as he parked to the side of the building, facing the road before turning off his headlights.
His meeting with the congregations of government officials had been severely draining; they were certainly humans that he didn't feel particularly warm towards. He was tired, homesick and consequently a little bit cranky. He just wanted to be back at base with his soldiers and friends.

"Tomorrow…" he mumbled to himself, finally going offline and feeling the pull of stasis surrounding him.

"Fantastic. Just fantastic!" Tory groaned, pulling the hood of her jacket up in an attempt to shield herself from the rain. Not that it did her much good, she was already well beyond saturated… she didn't say it wasn't an in-vain attempt…

Thought I'd left this damn weather back in Seattle…

Lifting her hand to try and wipe water that was dripping from the tip of her nose, she growled in frustration at the little good that it did; considering her hands were just as soaked. Shoving her hands into the pocket of her hoodie, she tried to suppress a shiver as a cold wind whipped around her soaked form; near chilling her to the bone.

Jasper was her destination. Good old Jasper…

She hadn't seen the damn place in a few good years, but after so long of travelling and wandering she had decided it was finally time to make the round trip back to where her journey had started. She supposed it would be nice to revisit the place she'd called home before everything had turned to shit.

Caught up in her thoughts, the dishevelled little ruffian didn't see the metal pole of a road sign; and unfortunately for her, she found it with her face.

"JESUS!" she screeched, holding her nose as her eyes pricked with reactive tears from having hit the ducts in the bridge of her nose. Stepping back in surprise, she lost her footing and tripped backwards; landing ass first in the saturated mud. She couldn't help but laugh sardonically; it was just her luck, "Oh that's just fucking peachy!"

Climbing to her feet, she could feel the horribly cold water soaking through her baggy jeans, right through to the fabric of her underwear. A reactive chill set in her bones as she glared up the sign through her long, waterlogged strands of dark, ash-blonde hair. Her scowl would have probably been almost comical if another person had been there to witness it, her bottom lip pursed irritably to one side, her blue eyes framed with water-clumped eyelashes and rainwater streaming down her nose. The weather was practically freaking torrential for Christ sake.

With an angry yell, she belted the pole with her steel-capped boots before stepping back to look at it. There was no moon that night, and even if there had been, the clouds would have been too thick to let it through. Pulling a cheap, Wal-Mart brand pocket torch from her jeans, she flicked it on and illuminated the road sign with its near-pitiful light.

Rest Stop/Gas – 3 Miles

Jasper, Nevada – 200 Miles

"Oh, well thank God for that," she exclaimed, "finally some good luck!"

Shifting the weight of her backpack so that it was even on both shoulders, she took off with a slightly more determined pace. So Jasper was still a ways to go, but at least maybe she'd be able to stop off for some food and a decent place to wait out the rain. In the morning she's keep trekking towards her once-hometown.

All of a sudden though, she could hear a rumbling in the distance behind her and she attuned her ears to the noise. It sounded like a road train; perhaps if the driver was feeling charitable she could hitch a lift to the gas station ahead. After all, it was going to take her about an hour to get to it on foot and although she was already soaked and beyond filthy; Tory Baker didn't exactly feel like marching it all the way down a 3 mile stretch of deserted road. Almost hopefully, she stuck out her thumb and watched as the vehicle's headlight began to approach; bathing the road in neon white light.

To her dismay, the truck made no signs of slowing down and it was only with the road train's headlights illuminating the road that she saw the massive torrential puddle left by the still bucketing rain that hounded her. He wouldn't… she thought desperately, I get it that he won't pick me up…but… surely the trucker bastard won't be that cruel…

But as her thoughts ran along the notion of the truck driving through the pooling, dirty water, she realized that he had yet to change direction or swerve. The wheels moved a fraction to the side as if attempting to get out of its path, but it was way too late for that.

"Oh no, no, no, NO!" she screamed, just as the massive behemoth tore through the ground water, the liquid arching up in a menacing wave and bucketing on her before the vehicle kept going. Furious, tired, hungry and absolutely seething, she thrashed angrily at the air and gave a violent, angry scream to the now distancing vehicle, "FUCK YOU MAN! THAT WAS SO NOT COOL!"

The too-long sleeves of her khaki jacket twisted into her fists and she dug her hands under the hood to grip her hair, too pissed off at the entire situation to even fight it anymore. Wiping mud from her dark framed, rectangular glasses didn't do anything either, her muddy hands just streaked them more. Jutting out her bottom lip in frustration, she resolved that the only thing she could do was to just suck it up and keep walking.

And walk she did.

An hour and a half it took her, trudging one foot in front of the other continuously with no stops to catch her breath or soothe her aching calves. She kept her mind focused on the goal, and eventually she was rewarded with the sight of an old floodlight. Against her own volition a grin split her muddy, saturated features and she pumped her fist victoriously.

"Ooh-to-the-freaking-RAH!" she exclaimed, habitually using her father's Marine 'ooh-rah' cry as she usually did when she felt accomplished. Breaking out into a run, she set her sights on shelter, and maybe some food and a bed for the night.

But to her horror and disappointment, the 'rest' area of the site was demolished, and a lonely pathetic looking gas station with no roof was leftover; probably to be torn down at a later date. Tory groaned and tried to wipe the water from her face with her already drenched sleeve.

Needless to say, it was fairly counter-productive.

"Why do you hate me?" she screamed immaturely at the stars, too sleep-deprived, hungry and exhausted to care what an idiot she look like right about now. Trying to at least scout herself out some food, she kicked in the fibreglass window of one of the vending machines and gulfed down a chocolate bar that tasted like it had been there for at least a year. But food was food, she was too hungry to give a crap. Just as she finished the confection, a loud, explosive round of thunder ripped across the sky; making her jump and follow the arching light across the clouds with her eyes.

That was when she spotted a truck parked to the side of the gas station, its headlights dimmed and the windscreen tinted to near-complete blackness. Maybe this was the trucker who had passed her by before? It didn't look like it had been there a long time, and it had a sleeping cab in the back. Maybe if she asked really nicely he'd let her sleep in the front seat. Hell, a sore back was better than sleeping in the mud.

Jogging over to where the massive vehicle was stationed, tripping over a few times from the slick surface of the dirt, she raised her fist and thumped on the door, the sound muted by the water absorbing the impact.

"Hey! Anybody in there? Open up! Please! Hello?" she called up over the wind, "I just need somewhere dry until this rain dies off! Please?"
As if to spite her, the rain began to double in torrent, if that was even possible. There was so much rain coming down that when she breathed in, she could almost feel herself inhaling the drops.

This sucked.

"Mister, come on! I'm not going to kill you or anything! JESUS, don't be a jackass! At least let me know you can hear me, for fuck sake!" her irritation at being cold, sore and saturated was at snapping point, and in a fit of defiant anger she reached for the handle to try and yank it open.

To her surprise, the door was not locked.

Tory bit her lip in trepidation, not actually having expected to be able to open the door. She was one of those people whose bark was worse than their bite; she could threaten a beating all day long but never actually have any intention of hurting someone. Not to say that she couldn't kick someone's ass, she just preferred not to. So to have her long winded screaming actually get some results…sort of stunned her. But her desire to be out of the horrid weather won out over her desire to not be intrusive, and she hauled herself up into the cab, tossed her bag into the seat and shut the door with a thump behind her.

"Look, mister before you start screaming at me I just want to say-" she turned to speak to the truck owner in the sleep cabin, only to find it empty. "…Whoa…what the hell?"

The whole truck was empty.

No signs of an actual driver were evident, no typical beer can or shotguns or trucker cap slung over the headrest. Maybe the driver was just really tidy? But then again…that didn't explain where said driver was. With a shrug, Tory decided that she no longer cared; she just wanted to get out of these horrid wet clothes.

Her head fell back into the headrest for a moment, just to ease the strain on her tired legs and clear her aching head. A heavy sigh escaped her as she grabbed her back from the passenger seat and dropped it into the sleeper cabin with a loud 'squish' as it hit the truck floor.

Meanwhile Optimus, who had been deep within the reaches of stasis, was startled awake by an ice-cold something landing heavily on the leather of the interior in his cab. He activated his EM field and tried to assess the danger; whether or not this new intruder was some kind of threat. He obtained a visual of his cab, and was greeted with the sight of a slightly underweight young woman wearing oversized jeans, pulled in tight at her hips with an old belt; probably to keep them from falling down due to their incorrect sizing. Her thick, bomber-style hooded jacket was deep khaki in colour, splotched with mud and saturated from the external weather.

Long, damp strands of dark blonde hair hung about her face in tendrils, and her glasses were streaked with mud. Normally he would be obligated to eradicate such an intruder from his person, given the danger it posed to being discovered by a civilian…but she looked as though she'd been through a very rough day. The soldier in him was telling him to follow protocol and expel her from the cabin.

But the Autobot in him didn't have the heart to turn away someone in need.

Instead of doing as he would have recommended any of his soldiers to do, he stayed silent and made no motion as to remove the woman. She had tossed her bag into the sleeping cabin and was now climbing over the bench seat into the back, probably planning to sleep there. He simply hoped that she didn't plan to 'steal' the vehicle, because then he would be forced to remove her.

To his surprise, instead of laying down on the cabin mattress to rest she unzipped the jacket and dropped it beside her, ruffling her hair in an attempt to separate some of the sticking strands. The baggy jeans were next to go, and Optimus found himself fascinated by the process. Not in a sexual manner, he just found it interesting to see a human in such a state of undress; it seemed like something similar to when a Bot was in just their protoform with no constrictive armour.

Their natural state.

Needless to say, there were very few times in his life on earth where humans saw fit to undress in company, something about nudity being a social taboo. But as he observed this girl, he noticed several things that he had not quite expected. Scars, for one thing; and discoloured patches mottling down the arch of her back, more than likely pigment scars from previous bruising. None of it looked fresh, in fact some of them looked to be years old. Interestingly enough though, despite her state of undress, she had yet to remove the necklace she wore.

He instantly recognized it as a set of military ID plates, or 'dog-tags' as the soldiers called them. But there was a unique addition that he had never seen a soldier wear with their identification plates, there were two plain white gold bands on the chain as well; rested against the tags. Curiosity peaked, and Optimus found himself wishing that he could openly ask her what they were from.

He was distracted from his thoughts as his detection radar spiked, recognizing a familiar signal. A Decepticon was in the area…but surely they couldn't detect his presence; not only had he been in stasis, but he was well trained at guarding his own Energon signature. Then he felt his Spark near plummet to the depths of the Pit itself…

His EM field…

He had used his EM field to verify the presence of a human in his cabin…They were unable to be cloaked, and there was every chance that the Decepticons now knew where he was…should he make a break for it and try to explain to the girl later, or could he find a way to expel her from the cab to keep her safe? Frantically trying to think, he turned to check her state.

She was currently dressed in only a mismatched bra and underwear set, both of which looked to be damp from the absorption of the rainwater, but much to Tory's dismay, she didn't have any spares. So she resolved to just let them dry on her, and get her fresh clothes out for when she was ready to change; it wouldn't be the first time she'd slept in her underwear.

Pulling out a fresh t-shirt and some different jeans, she propped them onto the driver's seat to dry; seeing as they were relatively damp from having her backpack soaked all the way through. Throwing her soaked jeans, her shirt and her sopping wet bag into the passenger side with wet slap, she rolled her shoulders and groaned at the aching feeling in her back muscles. She'd been trekking for at least 3 days; usually trying to get hitchhikes in between towns at least part of the way.

"Now let's see…these are going to dry a lot better if there's heat…wonder if this ghost-trucker left his keys in the car…" leaving her khaki jacket and her heavy boots in the back of the sleeper, she leaned heavily over the bench seat to the cabin and swung herself over it; squinting in the dark to try and locate a set of keys.

Nothing in the ignition, and there wasn't any trace of them in the glove box or under-console. It looked like whoever this mystery trucker was, he at least had the sense not to leave his keys in the vehicle. That was unfortunate for her.

"Damn. Looks like I'm just waiting it out..." she mumbled under her breath.

Suddenly a loud crash rocked the car, and she screamed; her heart hammering in her chest. Was it the owner of the truck? Had he shot at her or something? It had sounded like it had come from the roof, and as if in retaliation to the very thought, large spikes of metal pierced the glass of the windows and gripped the roof of the semi like a grappling claw.
"What the holy HELL-?"

"You need to get out of here! Run!"

Her head whipped around the cabin, trying to locate the source of the liquid baritone voice; her brain seeming to tell her that it had come from the direction of the radio system…but that would be crazy! Stereos didn't talk, and besides; the truck wasn't even on! However in rebuttal of her thoughts, the cabin passenger door swung open a fraction, the metal grappler restraining its full mobility. She expected to see someone there, trying to open the door…but there was nobody…

The semi was lurched upward, as though the hook was trying to lift it; and there was not enough light outside for her to see. Was it a crane, or some kind of helicopter? The truck squealed as the metal was put under strain, the brakes locked in a vain attempt to remain stationary.

"RUN!" she radio (yeah, DEFINITELY the radio that time) yelled at her commandingly.

But Tory couldn't understand what was going on, her eyes were glued in terror to the blackness of the windscreen and she didn't move. She could have sworn that she saw two glowing red spots just in front of the hood. They glowed like the eyes of a demon, but eyes, really? That wasn't possible.

A deep, metallic growl rumbled outside, drowning out the thunder momentarily before she heard a sinister, rasping chuckle, "Found you, Prime!"

"NO!" the stereo cried, a metallic roar sounding like that of…a distress man.

Tory squealed as the massive, multi-tonne road train was actually lifted into the air. She was engulfed in a horrid sense of vertigo as the ground was drawn further and further away from her. In the wind of the storm, the suspended truck buffeted and she was tossed against the wall of the cab; she frantically tried to find purchase on the seats with her bare feet, which only resulted in her accidentally kicking her belongings towards the still open door.
"SHIT! AH! NO!" she screamed, jumping for her things without thinking; out of instinct. Everything she owned was in that bag, nothing sentimental, but clothes and money, her old iPod. "NO, NO, NO!"

She was too late. The bag slipped between her fingers and tumbled out into the wind; and Tory watched it drop, only just now realizing how far off the ground the truck was. With a horrified gasp, she stared in shock as her things spilled from the satchel and rained down towards the earth; away from wherever the fucking flying truck was taking her.

Another bout of high altitude wind rocked the vehicle and Tory screamed as her slippery, muddy, near-naked form slid across the leather seating; unable to find a grip. Her heart stopped in that tiny instance when she realized what was happening, having it feel like slow motion.

She was going to fall out of the truck. In mid-air.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, she closed her eyes and waited for the sensation of plummeting to the earth like an over-sized, blonde rock. And waited…

It didn't come.

Shooting her eyes open, she could still see that she was half hanging out of the door, the wind and rain pelting her face mercilessly and causing her hair to stream into her eyes. Flinging her face up to look around, she noticed the passenger side seatbelt twined tightly around her ankle; binding her tightly. Tory couldn't help but release a disbelieving, almost cynical laugh as she pulled herself up into the safety of the cabin and forced the door back closed.

She'd been saved…by a seatbelt?

"Talk about a stroke of fucking luck!" she exclaimed, trying to still the hammering in her chest and regain her breath.

"You should have run when you had the chance…" came that familiar man's voice from the speakers, obviously addressing her. Now that she had the chance to actually be sure that it was coming from the vehicle, Tory was figuratively shitting herself.

"What the fuck is this? Knight Rider? She screeched, climbing up onto her haunches to perch on the seat.

"I fear that you are in danger now…I do not know where they are taking us."

"They? What the fuck? What in Hell's name is going on here?"

"I'm–" the voice from the surround sound was cut off abruptly.

Whatever was suspending this fucking possessed truck up in the air was obviously buffeted once more by the wind and rain, and that in turn cause the semi to swing violently again. Tory, who was technically 'squatting' in the passenger seat with no safety belt was thrown violently against the roof of the cab with a solid 'oof' escaping her already burning lungs. Another one of her screams started to sound up her throat as she was then buffeted across the cabin; but it was cut short as she struck her head on the seatbelt holder at the side of the vehicle.

Her vision spotted and blurred white for just a fraction of a second.

Then finally, her world went black.

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