A/N: Done for the tf_speedwriting community on LJ, with the prompt being: Addiction. I wasn't going to put it up here, but I thought 'since Turning Point won't be updated until Tuesday at the earliest, I might as well.'
Warnings: Sticky mech/mech slash. Bondage, blindfold, gag. Don't like? Underage? Don't read.
Disclaimer: TF's are not mine TT_TT
Tied up with his hands above his head, legs spread wide, mouth gagged and his optics unable to view the world through his blindfold, Blurr had no concept of where he was, who was there, and what they were doing.
Good. Just the way he liked it.
He heard the venting of two, maybe three mechs, all with their optics on him, watching him, powerless to run as was his pride at the racetracks, unable to speak, unable to do anything except be. He knew what was to happen of course. Knew every little detail almost. But he craved it, craved this, being powerless, making himself submit all too willingly.
He felt as the air currents changed around him as soft pedes shuffled up to him, coming behind him.
"Look at you," the voice cooed, "so gift wrapped for us. Are you wondering what we were doing? Were we just watching you? Or were we touching ourselves, circuits heating as we watched your sexy body unable to move and spread out like a buffet of hot, polished blue metal?"
Blurr moaned, most of it muffled by the heavy gag. Yes, he wanted more of that voice suggesting things to him, more of those sinful temptations.
A finger draw a line from the nape of his neck down the base of his backstrut, a sincere promise of things to come. "I bet you're nice and wet already. You're engine is purring. I bet you just want to open your panel, mmm?"
The racer moaned again, wiggling in his restraints.
The voice chuckled deeply, so out of character so him, and teased, "I can't wait until you open your panel. You'll be as wet as all the other times we've done this, you lucky little slut. You like it when I talk like that, don't you Blurr?"
Blurr bobbed his helm frantically, his fans kicking on as that voice whispered into his audial, "Want to take you here nice and hard and fast while the other two watch. They're touching each other now, but their optics are locked on that panel in the middle of your legs. Frag Blurr. How we want to be in between those legs of yours, feeling them wrap around our hips because you love interfacing so fragging much. But not today. You're bound. You can't do anything but moan as we put our spikes in you and fill you up with so much transfluid, but you'll beg for more. You always do." The voice was slightly affectionate behind the words, and it made the blue racer shiver with the promise.
"Open up," said another voice, barely restrained with pleasure.
"Go on…we're so excited," said the third, and Blurr swore he could hear a glossa sliding over lips.
Wishing that he was watching himself, Blurr opened up his interface panel, baring it to the three occupants, his spike extending and valve already dripping in want.
The mech behind him hummed a sound in appreciation, but kept up his gentle stroking of the taut and trim backplates, admiring their streamlined design, before digging his hands into sensitive seams below the booster engines, making the bound mech buck and make a muffled cry. He chuckled, loving every sound Blurr made. But then again, the racer was always such an addict for this, always wanting, always running a little hot with all that energy to spare.
He watched over Blurr's shoulder as his two companions began to kiss each other in their arousal, their panels sliding open and their own spikes extending to rub against each other as they kissed. The mech smirked at the arousing sight, following suit and deploying his own spike.
Blurr heard the sounds and shivered again, knowing what those telltale clicks meant. He heard the faint scrape of delicate metal on metal, and he whined. He was there! His valve was so wet and hot and waiting to be filled.
"Bet you know what those two are doing. If you would see it, you'd be humping the air…oh wait….you are," the mech behind him purred, and it was true. His hips were jerking, and his muscle cables callipers within him clenched into themselves as they would around a spike.
"Pllmmmff!" Blurr cried out, his legs that were spread wide struggling to move.
"Oh, poor mech, wants to be stuffed full," purred the second mech, breaking from his lip lock with his companion.
"He's nice and wet," teased the mech behind, finally tracing his hand lower, sliding it sensually down the curve of that fine aft of the racer and circling a fingertip around the rim of it, coating it in lubricant before bringing it back up to his lips and smearing it his lips before licking it off. "Ooh yes, so nice and sweet aren't you Blurr?"
The racer nodded, loving the talk but wanting some action.
One of the mechs somewhere in front of him broke from the other mech, and when he spoke he found it was the third mech. "I don't like to see you so desperate. While pretty, you look so much better when you're in the midst of pleasure."
Blurr tensed as a second set of hands began to touch him, over his front, palming his chest and teasing sensors. He could smell the mech, the pristine scent of a clean lab and slight plasma rounds, along with the standard polish. He keened through the gag as he felt something hot and hard nudge his bared and needy entrance before pushing in slowly, bit by agonising bit, designed to tease him. When the spike was fully hilted in him, he keened again, squeezing his valve walls tight around the pleasure inducing ridges on the spike inside him. A hand wrapped around his own length and began to pump, as the member within him slid back and forth in his dripping desire.
"MMM!" he cried out as the mech inside him swivelled his hips, all his nodes going haywire at each touch. He shuddered in his restraints, his charge building as he leaned back, plaint as the other mech drove into him. The mech was slower than mechs usually were, and he could tell this was probably the second time this mech had been down here. Blurr liked it, his vents buzzing loudly.
The other mech kept going steady, matching his thrusts with the speed of his hand as it pumped up the racer's hard shaft. He wasn't going to last long, Blurr being so tight, so wet. The sensor nodes in his spike were spinning with charge and pleasure data with each thrust.
Although he tried to keep silent, the thrusting mech overloaded with a long groan, hot fluid shooting out of his length to coat the walls of the valve with the sticky silvery fluid. He slumped. He hadn't had an overload in quite a while, his work pulling him away from such simple pleasures.
Blurr mewled piteously behind the gag. He wanted to overload!
The second mech came up behind the mech who was pulling out of the racer's valve and he purred, "You know how hot that was Blurr? This poor mech has been working so hard he doesn't even come to me as relief any more. You were both so gorgeous."
Blurr felt his slight ire go down. That was right, he was the addict, and he was just wanting more now. It gave him a bigger charge. As the spike slipped free of his valve, he bucked up, and felt fluids slip out of him and to the floor.
"Oh frag yeah," purred the mech behind him, who had not stopped touching him ,still stroking, still caressing. "Give it to him mech, you can tell that's nowhere near as much transfluid as he needs."
The second mech, who had now replaced the third mech who was tucking his spike away in his panel as he sat to watch the show, gave a feral grin and positioned himself at the mewling mech's dripping and steamy entrance. "With pleasure," he growled, and thrust in to the hilt unexpectedly, flared tip pushing into those tight folds and going to the deepest reaches, fluids making the sounds even wetter and hotter to every mechs audios.
Blurr cried out. He could tell this mech had done this so many times before, and he wiggled his hips in expectation, every circuit on fire and his processor so wonderfully blank except for the pleasure, pleasure, pleasure! that clouded his thinking processes. He loved it.
"NNGGhh!" growled the mech, before sliding his hands over the spread thighs once, twins, then gripping the slim waist and steadying his stance, pulling out and then pistoning forward to begin a rapid pace.
Blurr swore stars went into supernovas at the feel of that thick spike surging into him over and over again.
"Grr….such a tight little frag, Blurr," panted the thrusting mech, jerking his hips hard and fast with each thrust, the clang of metal loud in the air, the smell of thick lubricants filling the room like a miasma. Blurr could only nod and sob with pleasure, his valve clenching down again and again in random rhythms as the mech pounded him into such a wonderful oblivion.
The mech behind the racer, his optics glowing as he watched the mech take the racer nice and hard, was palming his own spike in preparation. He wanted to bring the racer to overload. It was his turn anyway.
Blurr cried out again as the charge and the thrusting spike deep in him overwhelmed him, and he overloaded hard, lubricant going everywhere and abandoned spike squirting transfluid all over his abdominal and chest plates.
"Fragging hot," groaned the mech still slamming into him as his own overload crested over him and he shot his own essence deep into the rippling valve, wrenching himself out before the racer's climax wound down, still leaving the bound, blue mech slightly charged.
"He's all yours."
The mech slid to the front of that lithe, sexy form, spread wide by the binding. He enjoyed the view for a moment, stroking his length leisurely as he watched some transfluid dribble out of that entrance, still wound tight. He chuckled, "Two mechs and you're still tight Blurr. Oooh, I have to have a taste."
Blurr gasped and bucked up as he felt a mouth suck on his entrance and a glossa swipe in to taste the juices of himself and the other two mechs.
"Mmm, tasty. Can't wait to see what the four of us taste like together," said the mech in a seductive tone.
Blurr knew what was coming by those words, and cried out again as the spike entered him, the third one to be in him and stayed, stretching him wide for a moment, before going so agonisingly slow. He jerked his hips down, moaning as his over sensitised nodes were stimulated back into full charge. He wouldn't last, he wouldn't last long at all.
"Like that huh? That's okay, it's fun," purred the mech, and like the mech before him, grabbed on to Blurr's hips and did harder, longer strokes, eliciting long mewls and moans from the racer, who thrashed his helm in his pleasure as the pace built, as their charge built. Before long Blurr felt the tingling feeling of pre-overload shoot up his backstrut, and he screamed as too much data flowed into his systems from the pleasure in his valve and he overloaded, more lubricant coming out, making his valve so wet and slippery as the mech thrusted through his overload, a hand patting his faceplates.
"Almost there….nnnn…..hah….almost!" grunted the other mech, until he felt the other's body tense, more hot fluid rushing into his wet and sticky valve. He finally let his pants be heard as his gag was taken off and thrown somewhere. He let out an audible groan as the sated spike slid out of him. Blurr felt so full with fluid and he relished that feeling. He loved bringing others to pleasure as well as himself.
"Mmm, so nice you three," he murmured when he finally got his breath back.
There was a chuckle and gentle fingers undid his blindfold, revealing the sated faceplates of Hot Rod. "You are always hot to watch Blurr. Next week, I think we'll put the hobble on you only. That'll be fun."
The racer laughed, his gaze finally falling on the other two mechs whom he had pleasured and vice versa. "Drift, two weeks in a row, huh? Patrol horrible?"
The ex-Con smirked, "Yes. And you are so willing, of course."
Blurr looked to the mech standing beside Drift. "Percy! Glad you came down again. I thought we scared you off with the first time you came here. Did Drift bring you down?"
"Yes,' said the microscope-turned-sniper, who blushed faintly. "I was…unsure. But I am glad. It was very relaxing."
Blurr smiled kindly at the red mech, who quirked his lips up in a quick smile back. "Now…can you guys untie me? My joints are getting kind of stiff."
Hot Rod smirked. "If you wiggle around too much, that's not the only thing that will be stiff again."
They all shared a moment of levity before moving forward and getting the satisfied racer out of his bonds.
A/N: I would love reviews, even though this is not one of my best.