Chapter Text
Bluestreak was halfway through cleaning the dump (though, did all dumps contain collections of heads?!), that he'd really rather not touch but the Decepticon had it quite clear he was to clean, when he felt claws trace his doorwing hinge. He jerked forward on instinct, chains rattling and doorwings jerking up and out in anger, yet that didn't keep the claws from following.
"I can read Praxian," Barricade chuckled and Bluestreak froze as one claw pressed against the hinge's motor anchoring. "My Carrier was one."
"O-Oh..." He had no idea if that was true, but with how nightmarishly Praxian his captor's frame looked, it- wait. Carrier? As in- Even as he half-twisted to stare at the Decepticon from the corner of his optics, he felt sick, like his tank was about to purge. Not even a dry swallow relieved the feeling. "Y-You were-?"
Bluestreak swore he saw at least one pair of optics roll, while the other pair seemed to glint. "Naturally."
He didn't care if that was true or not; the mere idea was anathema to everything Bluestreak knew. The Autobot didn't even try and hold back as he purged his tank all over the floor, some of it landing on him, but that wasn't important. No, his mind was on what Barricade was: Sparked. An abomination against nature and the Decepticon seemed proud that he wasn't from the Only True Source of Life. The Allspark. His tanks threatened to purge again as disgust rose, swiftly turning to revulsion. How - How could- why did Primus allow such a thing? It wasn't right. Anything from elsewhere was twisted and perverse. Unnatural. Vile and revolting. An insult to life.
No wonder the Decepticon seemingly collected heads. "Unicron-spawn-"
And that was about the time he was introduced, face-first, to his purge by a snarling Barricade, the Decepticon's EM-field oppressively cruel and tinged with energonlust as he rubbed the Noble's face in the sticky, stinking mess while Bluestreak scrambled against the flooring in futile attempt to get away. Something was snarled, but Bluestreak was too busy fighting a losing battle to escape the grip to care what his captor wanted.
This was beyond vile and if he could just get a hold of one of the chains- Ah. There. His hand closed around it and the young adult attempted to twist enough to fling the chain into Barricade's side. "No-"
Barricade snarled, his grip tightening, freehand catching, and yanking, on the chain until Bluestreak was shrieking, arm pulled painfully high behind his back. It was threat enough that Bluestreak was certain he would not like what came next if he disobeyed. "Clean."
"Yes, Masta!" It was more a sob of intakes and engines than anything, the Decepticon word strange as it left his mouth, but as soon as he said the words his arm dropped to his side with a clatter of chain.
He took three tries to lick up all the purge without adding to the mess on the floor, and it settled in his tank like a rancid treat only worse.
"Good," Barricade hissed, dragging claws over the back of Bluestreak's neck, eliciting a whimper from the newly made slave. Yet that didn't seem to deter the Decepticon as the claws trailed his back then across doorwings, slowly dragging across paint and metal with a squeal until they rested at the edges, deceptively light against the sensor nodes clustered in that location. Bluestreak must have whimpered because what sounded like an amused rumble came from his captor; the next thing he knew, Frenzy had reappeared on his shoulder and it took everything the sniper-to-be had to hold still after the initial jerk.
Much, much later after he'd learn just who Soundwave was, Bluestreak would be glad he'd only jerked once. Sure, he'd whimpered when the claws dug into the cluster, but it was better than what Soundwave would have done, and when the claws returned to resting deceptively light against the sensors he sagged in relief. It earned him a dark chuckle, but Bluestreak didn't care, engine hitching when the same claws seemed to pet a sensor as Barricade and Frenzy talked. Well, he assumed it was, even if he had no hope of understanding anything.
And then his head was pressed into the ground yet again and it felt as if the shocktrooper was using almost all of his weight, Barricade's other hand tangled against the motor cabling, claws resting amongst delicate wiring. Bluestreak barely realised how fragged he'd be if he moved before something jacked into his helm dataport and pulverised what firewalls he had.
The young Noble screamed, his first and only attempt to get away reminding him of the precarious position he was in as he felt wires and tubing slice and fluids trickle down his back, and unwilling to lose his doorwings, he stilled, a look of painful hatred etched onto his face. He was being hacked and he could do nothing to prevent it. It hurt, feeling as if he'd been shot, only this bullet wasn't an oilpellet. This bullet was worse than anything he'd ever experienced in his woefully short life. He hated it, hated how he could hear and feel Barricade's laughter as the slagger took pleasure from his pain. Bluestreak hated how the Minicon could see everything he was.
His hopes and dreams- how he wanted to become the best amongst his peers with a rifle, how he wanted to join the clubs, how he wanted a sparked rifle because those were awesome and it would be his though maybe he'd remove the t-cog, but then again, having one that transformed seemed cool. He wanted a good job, and he'd get a good job because of his status in life. His life and how happy he'd been because he'd wanted for nothing and could do almost anything he wished with just a bit of work. Life had been good, privileged and his wants taken care of. His -
The hacker even saw his crush, and unbidden, an image of Megabolt rose in his mind. The mech was a cute tread-wheeled car of the same rank who's frame had been commissioned in Kaon at the behest of his Caretaker, a tank-like mech. He was silver and blue with purple accents and a weird shade of red optics and fangs for teeth. He had claws, but they were Autobot claws and the way he moved was Autobot. He was cute and wonderful, kind but driven in ways Bluestreak didn't understand, and his helm was reminiscent of a three-pronged crown. His own Caretakers had been trying to secure his first date with Megabolt.
A date that would never happen and -
GET OUT! He screamed as the hacker dug deeper and deeper, into everything that made him who he was, and Bluestreak did the only thing he could. He kept up a litany of 'OUT OUT OUT-!' until eventually, Frenzy left, and he was back in reality, still face against the floor and a laughing Decepticon next to him and a small hacking Minicon on his shoulder, chattering away in what sounded like a mix-mash of languages, and Bluestreak knew he should not be shocked that a Decepticon Minicon had been forced to know that many. There was Binary, Decepticon's language, a handful of Standard Neo-Cybex words, and a word or two in what Bluestreak would come to know as Kayuun- the language of the Kaiju.
How Barricade understood, Bluestreak didn't want to know. Nor did he want to know what they were talking about, but he could guess. It was probably about what Frenzy found. What he saw. What he shouldn't have, and Bluestreak's engine growled. "That was private-"
"And?" Barricade asked as he rose, Frenzy jumping to his shoulder. It took a nudge of the larger carmech's foot before Bluestreak picked himself up and slowly return to his job, tank rolling and helm aching. Behind him, he could hear the two Decepticons chatting yet again, but he did his best to ignore it. Trying to understand them would not help with the job, and not doing it not no an option.
Of course the chains got in the way, but he wasn't willing to ask the Decepticon to remove them. For all he knew, he'd be made to beg.
After some time, he heard the door open, and with a rattle of chains, he whirled around in time to see Frenzy dart off to who knew where, while Barricade merely smiled, cocking his head at the door.
Bluestreak stupidly, foolishly took a step towards it, and Barricade's smile grew and his claws twitched.
Optics wide, Bluestreak stilled, half raising his hands in surrender as his optics darted between the smile and the twitching claws, panic blooming across his mind and face.
He'd been caught out. He knew he'd been caught out.
"Smart, Autobot," the Decepticon purred as the door clicked shut, and Bluestreak hunched as the Nightmare Praxian approached, trying, and failing, to keep his EM-field as close as he could. It didn't help. As soon as he felt those claws on his doorwings yet again, he whimpered, bleeding fear. There was only so much bravery he could front before it started to crumble.
"Don't-"
It was more of a whimper than he wanted it to be, and all it got him was a dark chuckle, the feeling of a pleased EM-field, and claws digging into the sensors as they trailed over to the front. "I'll do what I want with property."
"I'm not-"
Bluestreak was cut off as the chain and collar became a noose his hands clawed at uselessly, trying desperately to release the chain, if not the collar. It was no use; the chain attached would not release at his touch, and Barricade - judging by the dark, dark chuckles with undertones of enjoyment - the slagger was getting off on this- was amused. Bluestreak shot him a dark look as he hauled a fraction of his weight up, alleviating some of the choking. While it wouldn't kill him, it would restrict primary intakes and force secondary ones to work overtime to compensate, and he'd heard -would later learn first hand before Motor Master and Barricade had been fragging Curious- it was rather painful due to the build-up of heat within his ventilations.
"You're going to learn your place and learn it well." Barricade might as well have been talking about the weather.
"Let go!"
Barricade snarled, and the next thing Bluestreak knew, he'd been flung into the nearest wall, the Decepticon on him within a nanoklik, helpfully sending him crashing to the ground, a heavy foot on his chest, pinning him in place. "I own you, Autobot."
"I don't belong to anyone!" Bluestreak hissed as he struggled to throw what seemed like an immovable weight off him. "I'm a Noble, n-"
"You're in no position to be demanding anything." Metal creaked as Barricade shifted his weight and Bluestreak fought back the whimper. He refused to give into the fear clawing at his mind, never mind Barricade was like a giant oppressive stasismare made real. "Your privileges died with your city, slave."
Bluestreak knew he'd made an affronted noise -because what? he was no slave; he was a Noble, and he mattered in ways this Decepticon would never understand- even as he spat out: "You- My city wasn't worth what you did to it-!"
As far as Bluestreak knew that was truth. Pria had been a colony of Praxus on a moon around a brilliant blue gas planet that orbited a golden star, established on a minor trade route not long after the Age of Primes had ended. Its main draw was tourism (and the technological summit that Praxus held there every megavorn, and Bluestreak had been named for two of the leading minds in Praxus because Fallback had liked the idea of combining the names), and it didn't even have a Cityspark, let alone a Titan like Praxus did, and Bluestreak had seen the Praxian Titan all of once and it had been in a documentary about the Enforcer-cadre that cared for the creature.
The documentary had even hinted that the Chief of the Enforcers was linked to the Titan, but Bluestreak wasn't sure he believed that, if only because it was said anyone linked with a Titan was an abomination, and he doubted Praxus would ever allow such a thing to reach any kind of rank.
"Crushing Autobot morale is worth a lot more than simple strategy," his captor snarled, and before Bluestreak could think, let alone get a word out of his mouth, Bluestreak found himself hauled up by the chain and collar and pulled in close, the Decepticon almost purring. "You are a worthless piece of scrap and would have been sent to the smelter if I hadn't bought you."
"W-What?" That... that wasn't true, was it? He was a Noble, not - not a piece of scrap. "I-"
Barricade cocked his head, optics alight with what Bluestreak could only assume was sadistic intent. "You should be grateful."
Grateful?! This- this- this plebeian was telling him that he was worth nothing yet was saved and he should be grateful?!
"I am not worthless!" Bluestreak spat out as he struggled against the grip, fingers clawing and prying at the claws around his arm, even as the idea that he should try to use the chains attached to him as a weapon. He dismissed the idea, unwilling to find out what Barricade would do if he tried that again. Probably tear his arm off or something. "I'm worth more than you could t-!"
"You want me to tell you what you're worth, slave?" Barricade snarled and Bluestreak found himself shoved back, the Sparked now circling him with an unnerving predatory gleam in his optics.
His whimper was completely involuntary, even as he scrambled to get away, only to find the Praxian following him.
"W-What are you..?" he whispered, stumbling over one of the chains, almost tripping over it in his haste to get away. There was no way that was a normal frame. Not with the amount of fear that it instilled in his spark. A spark that almost spun its way out of his chamber when Barricade's claws scored a shallow hit to his side.
"Answer me when I talk to you!" Barricade growled, advancing on Bluestreak, who backpedalled back as fast as he could until he ran into the wall, where he attempted to become one with it while systems rattled, struggling to pull in enough air in his Not!Terrified state.
"I'm not worthless, like the lower class-"
"Wrong answer!"
Bluestreak feared the snarling 'Con might go for the chain on his collar again and wouldn't that be lovely only not because his neck was an aching mess and he was quite certain the collar had cut into plating, but instead of a yank, he found himself very suddenly 'helped' to the floor as his legs were swept out from under him.
Barricade knelt in front of him and Bluestreak recoiled- there was no way he was going to be able to push himself up, let alone get away, yet still rose to the bait, almost spitting: "What?"
Barricade seemed to have acquired more teeth than he should have had and Bluestreak wasn't sure what he was seeing wasn't simply because of the blow to his helm. "You ask me-"
He stared at the Decepticon, unable to understand the words, and he didn't think he wanted to. But, he must have stared too long, because Barricade started to rise, the hated chain in his hand again.
"W-Wait!" Fragger was enjoying this, he had to be, but at least he'd paused, and Bluestreak swallowed his pride. Frag his life. Yet, for all he was doing this to save his neck, he still managed to inject some venom into his words as he clumsily repeated the Decepticon words.
He also prayed that he hadn't screwed them up. "W-W-What am I worth, M-Masta?"
"You're worth about four hundred credits. I could probably get more scrapping you." He grabbed Blue's faceplates and forced the other to look at him. "You might be worth a little more if you turn out to be a decent interface, but that's doubtful."
Inter...face?
No.
No. No.
Nonono. All the No's in the galaxy. All of them. Times infinity and beyond!
Bluestreak shook his head so hard even he thought it might fall off. He did not just hear that and Barricade was starting to smile, and the young Noble tried and failed, to fight against the chains yanking him away from the wall. "I-I'm- I'm barely old enough to be considered a full adult, let alone to interface!"
There was a note of very real panic in his voice, and that, Bluestreak released when Barricade stopped and stared at him as if seeing him in a new light all of a sudden, had been the worst thing he could have possibly said, and he could only stare in horror as a wicked, wicked smirk spread over Barricade's faceplates. Bluestreak wished he'd died in the attack; that he had been scrapped; that he'd kept his mouth shut.
"So you've never 'faced at all, then?" Barricade said and the Autobot could feel those optics raking over his frame.
"N-No." Bluestreak squeaked, wondering when his bravery had finally deserted him. Probably just now. Sure, he'd sparked himself off a few times, but that was different, and everyone knew you waited until the first date to start any kind of interfacing exploration, because what else was a first date for if not that? "P-please don't-"
Barricade's chuckle turned into a full laugh. "Oh, this is better than I could have hoped. The only question is if I wait for Wildrider or not?"
Bluestreak had no idea who that was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know -and he would come to wish he'd never found out because that mech was psychotic and dangerous-, not with the way the name seemed to be purred, as if this Wildrider was someone close to his captor.
"No!" And what little bravery remained thoroughly fled as what was about to happen finally sunk in, and he panicked, attempting to stand, only to find himself forced to the ground as the black-and-white straddled him, easily forcing his hands over his head. "Please! No! Anything else!"
Whatever other pleas he had shut off as his head rocked to the side, Barricade's claws then caressing the area, and Bluestreak flinched, a sob working its way out of him. This was not happening, this was not happening. Primus willing, this was a very very bad stasismare and he was going to wake.
Yet it wasn't, and the claw stroking a seam in his chestplating was real. Very, very real and he twisted as much as he could, but that didn't deter the larger. If anything, it only made Barricade settle his weight more solidly, as if keeping him pinned wasn't an easy task for the larger and heavier. Bluestreak liked to think it wasn't, if only because that maybe made things marginally better. Maybe.
"I don't think you're in any position to be asking me for anything."
"N-No- Please-" He didn't want this, he didn't want it at all, and he tried to lockdown his plating, but all that brought was a dark chuckle and burst of words he didn;t understand, and he was starting to hate how easily the shocktrooper seemed to switch languages, making it seem as if he was toying with him, and he probably was.
"You aren't gonna fight me off that easy, kid," Barricade laughed as he settled his weight yet again, this time on Bluestreaks thighs, effectively denying the terrified Autobot the option to kick. "Just a bit of fun."
"Please stop!" Bluestreak's optics spiralled wide, optics almost white with the fear his EM-field bled. Barricade was right; there was literally nothing he could do to make him stop, to prevent this. He was going to interface one way or another. But... But he had to try. "Please- Please Master, please... I don't want this-"
The beg was cut off when the mech's free claws were roughly shoved under hip plating, and Bluestreak had thought his optics couldn't go any wider. He was wrong. "NO!"
"Yes," Barricade grinned. "You're going to interface with me whether you like it or not."
"I-I-" He hiccoughed, engine spluttering and vents choking as he struggled to keep with the demand for cooling air, but he managed to force his next words out, more a plaintive whine of a vornling than anything. "Please not like this-!"
Not like this, never like this and while one's first wasn't special, many of his agemates had chosen to wait until they where in their final frames so they could better explore; explorations that normally happened on the first date, because that was, technically, what a first date was: it marked a mech's arrival in to the adult world. Though no one would begrudge a newly adulted mecha from exploring outside that but Bluestreak didn't think it was proper at all.
"What did you want for your first interface?" Barricade seemed to consider him, and Bluestreak swallowed, almost jumping out of his frame when the cruel claws gently rubbed the wiring and tubing under the hip panel. "Like this?"
"I- Y-Yes!" He choked out, optics flashing in confusion as intakes heaved but he dare, dare not hope. This was a Decepticon.
A Decepticon who was smirking at him and the next thing Bluestreak knew, the collar had been pushed up somewhat - painfully and Bluestreak didn't even try and pretend that wasn't a whine of pain. That fragging thing was attached to his spinal cabling fraggit- as Barricade nibbled at exposed neck cabling.
"If you listen, there's nothing to be afraid of."
Bluestreak opened his mouth to retort there was, because what part of no didn't he understand. but then again, this was a Decepticon brute so he couldn't be expected to know that no was no and - but then he felt claws ghost his doorwing in what he could only assume was a mockery of a lover's caress, and he jerked away with a terrified squeal, chains jerking as his hands half-came down in an effort to defend himself before his processor caught up with reality. He froze, optics flashing in terror at the dark, angry rev of the Decepticon's engine as the gentleness turned to harsh cruelty and Barricade ground himself against Bluestreak.
He did the only thing he could - he started to struggle, jerking, or attempting to because they were once again pinned above his head, and Barricade's free hand was-
"Nonono-PLEASE NO-"
"Hold still." The dark voice held the promise of unspeakable cruelty if he wasn't obeyed.
He stilled with a broken sob as those claws ghosted his panel, toying with the seams there and there was nothing he could do that was going to stop this. He could fight and struggle but that would make it worse, and the other's field was - unreadable and he didn't know when that had happened, but he could only assume that fighting would make things that much worse. So he held still, engine hitching and straining because he wanted to flee. Not hold still.
Barricade's chuckle dragged another sob out of the Autobot, but all he did was nuzzle his neck, the hand pinning his hands leaving to trace the edges of his doorwing. Bluestreak flinched, but dare not move more than that, and even the flinch was risky in his mind. Even when the other hand left his panel to start tracing seams that lead up to his chestplates, he did not move, nor did he protest.
To do so was to risk being hurt, and while the grinding was rough and painful, he knew it could get so, so much worse.
"Good slave. Open your optics."
He hadn't been aware he'd screwed them shut, but he opened them, blanching when four red optics met his, and he could do little but stare, terrified, at them, a strangled whimper escaping at the sight of Barricade's crooked grin.
The monster was dragging things out for his own sick amusement, that much Bluestreak was certain of because why else would he be doing this? He was a monster, an abomination of the wo-
Bluestreak gasped as a claw ghosted over one of the sensors on the edge of the doorwing, and he instinctively shifted, just a fraction because he did not want to be hurt, into it. That was good and he liked it but it was probably a trap to get him to disobey and-
This time he whimpered as he pressed into the pleasure, optics flickering because fear and confusion, not understanding what his captor was playing at, especially when the other hand ghosted chestplate seems, and Bluestreak arched, with a whimper-groan into the deadly, deadly claws that had brought pleasure, not pain.
What-
"Do you like that?"
"Y-yes, Master," it was more of a squeak, optics wide and worried because what if he'd just answered wrong- and that worry turned to fear at the chuckle and he tried and failed to bite back the sob that racked his frame. He liked it, yes, but this was a Decepticon and he'd fallen into a trap-
He gasped, arching into the claws on his chest as they lightly stroked another seam, and against his better judgement, he started to wriggle against Barricade, frame reacting to the sensations he was getting, head looking back so more of his neck cabling was visible.
A glossa ran over it and Bluestreak gasped, optics widening when claws ghosted his doorwing, following a line in the thin plating. He groaned, the doorwing pressing up into the claws while his hands fisted above his head as his engine spluttered out what could have been a tiny purr.
"M-more- please-" He hated this, hated how he was starting to beg yet it did felt good-
He could have sworn Barricade chuckled against his neck, the sound reverberating through his frame in a way he wasn't sure he liked but felt good. Almost as good as the claws that had worked themselves under his hip-plating to tug and pinch at wiring, and Bluestreak arched into it with a whimper-groan and a squirm. It was a needy, wanting squirm and some distant part of his processor hate himself. This was a Decepticon, this was a dangerous, cruel mech and he knew it and he-
Oh. That was good and somehow Barricade had worked his hands under the smaller's frame to trace the door hinges along with the front of the doorwings and he liked that-
But all good things come to an end, and it was the brush of another interface panel against his that snapped him back to reality.
No- Nonono-
He tried to swallow his whimper as he shifted away, doing his best to wriggle his doorwings. Play with them, he thought. Not- not the other thing-
All that earned him was another brush of the monster's panel against his.
"No-" It was more of a sob than anything, and it was definitely out before he could stop it, and he felt more than saw Barricade still. Claws pressed against his doorwings and sensors helpfully informed him that any more pressure and the doorwings would shred like sheet metal of the lowest quality.
"What was that?"
"I-" Bluestreak whimpered, intakes and vents very much having a fragging field day as they tried to cool overclocking systems. "I- I-"
He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to do this and then Barricade's face was back in his field of vision, doorwings creaking under the weight shift, red optics bright and it had to be cruelty.
"Beg, slave, like the worthless scrap you are," Barricade hissed.
"I.. I.. " He floundered for any words -how did one beg? what did they say? he had no idea and his spark was threatening to burn its way out of his chest- that may appease the Decepticon, even a bit. "I.. Pl-please... No-"
He shrieked as claws punctured his doorwings and threatened to tear them to shreds and his optics blew as wide as they could go. "S-Stop-please- I- I beg you-"
"Beg me to do what?"
"I-" Another sob racked his frame as he trembled under the cold gaze. "Please be ge-gentle with me, Master? " His voice shook as he said that, knowing that Barricade might not want to hear that, but it was all the to-be-sniper could think of because that's what he wanted, outside of this not happening, but asking - begging for it not to happen was not - wasn't - he couldn't do that. He wasn't brave enough. "Please please please-"
The mantra ended in another shriek as the claws were dragged across the doorwings, metal squealing in protest as Bluestreak struggled against the assault, only to end up still at yet another harsh grind against his hips and panel. "Please stop-"
"Why should I be gentle with a disrespectful pile of parts like you?" He shifted up a little so he could look Blue in the face.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry- please-"
"Answer the question, slave," Barricade snarled with a nasty, nasty engine rev.
"I-" He tried, only for his voice to lock up and he flinched, yet no pain came, and he took the chance - moment? when would the pain came because he was certain Barricade thought he was stalling, but he wasn't, he wasn't- to suck in as much cool air as he could. "I know I don't deserve it.-" He flinched at the snort, but Barricade mad no move to stop him, and Bluestreak took that chance to forge on. "But please- I beg you- please don't hurt me. Please don't make it hurt. "
If he could, he'd have tried to spread his legs, but he couldn't due to Barricade's weight, and the fear that any movement would end in pain. He hated that part of himself -he should fight to the bitter end, but he didn't know how! Plus, this -the interface- would happen and Barricade had asked and maybe, hopefully, if he showed he wouldn't fight, that he -not accepted because he did not accept this situation and he hated it so much- then maybe it wouldn't hurt. Hopefully. Instead, he tried to return the grind even as his engine stalled, spluttering and whining because no what was he doing-
He was trying to make it hurt less. He had to try-
Barricade laughed as he said something in his native language that Bluestreak didn't catch, but it didn't matter because he wailed as his attempt was returned with a rough grind.
Primus and the Golden Crystals, had he been wrong? had he only encouraged the monster-
"You gonna to behave?"
Was it his imagination, or did Barricade's voice sound ... a little staticky. But that didn't matter because it was a question, and he had to answer-
"Ye-Yes Masta!"
"I'm not sure I believe you."
Nonono- he'd be good, he'd be good-
"Please! I will! I'll behave!" Bluestreak knew his face had contorted with fear as Barricade rubbed the palms of his hands back up the gouges on his wings, and it hurt. "Please, please, please Masta. I know- I'm not worthy- but please- It's all I beg of you-"
He shut his vocalizer off when the claws touched delicate sensor nodes on the edge of the doorwings, shivering and bracing for pain - yet it never came. Instead, the claws were dragged lightly over them, almost as if they were tracing the edge.
A groan worked its way out of him as the doorwing shifted into the claws.
"Good little slave" He emphasized the word with a grind of his hips, and Bluestreak whimpered, doing his best to hold still, to be good, if only so the pain did not return.
"Y-Yes Masta. "
He was good, because of course he was good and he wished the fragger would just get it over with, instead of dragging it out, but no. He was a slave and this was his life now and it wasn't a life he wanted but if he tried to fight back -
He hated himself for that. For not fighting back. But what could he do?
Groan, apparently, as a hand rested on his hip-plating before it trailed to-
He whined in fear as it rested against his panel, optics screwing shut because the other hand had somehow found its way into the doorwing's hinge, searching for any sensitive spots in the joint. They hit them, and Bluestreak groaned again. Denial, self-hate, defeat, and a host of other emotions swirled in his mind as his frame continued to betray him, reacting to the touches. Reacting as if this wasn't a Decepticon, but he could not deny that Barricade knew how to bring pleasure. A pleasure that made it harder to obey, to hold still, and he choked on a whimper-moan, on the words that left his mouth. "M-Ma--sta- please.. ple-ease per-permit me to move- to- to t-touch you?"
"Online your optics," Barricade growled, and the Autobot onlined his optics to find the Sparked's unreadable face staring at him yet again. Bluestreak swallowed, intakes heaving and his engine ticked over in a squeal as Barricade dragged his hand out of the hinges and all the way across to the edge, where he toyed with a sensor. "You can touch," the Decepticon started, laughing at Bluestreak's shock, yet then his claws turned hard, dangerous. "But you even think about yanking on anything, you'll regret it."
"Y-Yes Master."
He didn't expect the pleased rumble from Barricade, and he wasn't sure if it was because he understood the threat, or because he'd gotten the damnable word right. It didn't matter, and he could move - could touch. Slowly, he brought his hands down, chains rattling in an unwanted reminder of his situation, and timidly rested them against the pointed, spiked shoulders of his- his captor. -Not his master, never his master- and started to rub them. At the same time, he wriggled against the other and he must have done something right, as Barricade seemed to hiss in pleasure and the hand on his panel moved away.
Bluestreak offered no resistance when his legs were pushed apart and Barricade settled in the space.
This was happening, he had a chance to try and make sure it felt good, and he- he-
"Please don't hurt me-"
He was a coward who whimpered when the hand returned, claws dipping into the seams. It was uncomfortable and he was still clumsily exploring the monster's frame, careful not to do anything that could be seen as a threat. If he was braver he'd have tried something. He should have tried something, but the thought of pain, of this- this - this interface turning into a nightmare of pain and torture wasn't a pleasant one.
This was happening because he was weak-
"Open," Barricade growled, voice laced with static, as he gave the edge of the doorwing a squeeze. "Open them, Bluestreak."
Don't use my name, you have no right to- Bluestreak snarled in his mind, even as he obeyed the command, because to think of it as anything but was foolish. It was stupid and it was asking - begging to be hurt. He let out a thin, weak whine when the claws dipped into his port, rimming it and tracing the start of the rings of copper that threaded the walls of the port. Then a claw dipped in and Bluestreak froze as terror flooded him. Nonono-please no - he'd heard stories of how easily the not-that-deep walls could tear, or how painful the act was if there was a tear, of how the electricity produced wasn't drained properly and -
Something touched the callipers at the very end and Bluestreak turned his head away, face crumpling as his port was explored. It felt weird, unnerving. Unpleasant and tingly and he- he squirmed as another tingle hit him as the claw was pulled out. Then it dipped back in and a Bluestreak knew he'd sobbed, even as Barricade said something, and Bluestreak didn't want to know what it was, because the Decepticon was getting off on his fear and terror and was probably the kind that got off on pain and he-
Another sob and tremble racked him as the claws ghosted over the callipers, and it felt - good but not and he held as still as he could. Yet it remained there and Bluestreak's optics shot open as he hastily started up his trembling, shaky -and at times with a rattle of the hated chains- explorations of the abomination's frame. And it was an abomination. It was sharp and pointed, dark and cruel and he could feel scars and wields. He could trace seems but not work his fingers under them and he didn't put too much effort into it-
The claw retracted and he shuddered with a small whine.
When had his mind -traitorous mind because he was being forced and it wasn't far that he was doing this and he didn't want to but it felt good and he hated it so much- decided that it'd felt good and -
He groaned, arching into the claw that rimmed his port, and that was the other hand trailing down his chestplates and working into one of the seams, and on instinct, because it felt traitorously good, he leaned into it with a purr, and then Barricade was rumbling something into his neck plating, and the sounds sent a small shockwave of pleasure through him-
He whined, gasping as reality snapped back into focus as something pushed its way into his port -
NO-
"Please-" He forced out through a static-laced voice, half clinging to the monster above him because he couldn't make up his mind even as he hated this, it was a good feeling and the energy and electricity the plug generated as it passed each ring of copper was - good. No, unwanted and it was uncomfortable, and he feared what to come- "D-don't-"
Barricade's engine rumbled, and Bluestreak whimpered as he looked away, unwilling to look at his captor because he'd said no yet it was-
He gasped in air as side vents flung themselves open to dump a build-up of heat, but that didn't help, and Bluestreak briefly entertained the idea of trying to shove the Decepticon off him but- no.
All he could do was take it, and it didn't stop until callipers clasped around the plug, the connection set with a pulse of magnetic energy. There was no going back now, and Bluestreak was a shaking, trembling mass of an Autobot, pleasure and fear playing across his mind as Barricade trailed claws across the frame, dipping in here and there before they found a certain seam on his chest plates-
Bluestreak locked those down as fast as he could, hearing the locks engage and Barricade's rumbling laughter as claws pried into the seam before they left, trailing down to his hip then across to his plug.
He tried and failed, to not think of the damage that could be done. He must have whimpered or something because there was another chuckle from the thing over him. The thing that had stolen what was supposed to be a happy memory-
Bluestreak gasped when it was pushed into the monster's port and guided until large callipers locked around the connecting pins. He didn't even notice that Barricade was controlling the connection, too busy hating himself, hating how he shivered and writhed under the assault of pleasure, hating how those claws felt good, how his frame was on the verge of something.
He almost wished it was painful because then he wouldn't be rocking back and forth in time with the thrusts of the abomination. Thrusts that weren't gentle, but didn't hurt as much as he expected. "Please-" He choked out after one particularly hard thrust. The only answer he got was a rumbling engine rev against his frame, even as Barricade seemed to pull away, and Bluestreak found himself grinding back against the other, hands scrambling over the plating, and Barricade revved again.
It was his only warning; the Decepticon's next thrust was hard and Bluestreak cried out in pain/pleasure. half clinging to him as something - overload. it was the fraggers overload, and it was a powerful one- washed over him. Bluestreak clung to Barricade with static-filled whimper-wail-moan as he wriggled under him, the pain, the pleasure, even the fear and terror and panic and all the other emotions he couldn't name - mixed with the overload, dragging him closer to his own.
He found he didn't want the feeling to end, didn't want to return to reality. He wanted it to last longer. "Please-"
Something pulsed through the connection for several klicks, and then-
The world seemed to go white as pleasure washed over him.
He onlined to aches and pain, to something heavy - dark and cruel and brutal and very Decepticon- to something still in his port-
"No-" He whimpered, struggling against the Decepticon until he found his hands pinned above his head against, Barricade smirking down at him with more teeth than he should have. He stilled with a hiccoughing sob and fear plain on his face as Barricade sent a pulse of data through the one-sided connection.
No.. no - was there more to come? He didn't want more. He wanted the other to get off him, to go far, far away because that was - disgusting. Gross. He'd been forced by an abomination and it - he'd - he'd been made to like it.
"I-"
"You what?" the dark voice said, a hard thrust following the words.
"I-" He worked his mouth, trying and failing to swallow the panic and fear. "T-Thank you- F-For n-not h-hurting me-" He spat out after a few false starts, and Barricade lent in close. Too close for Bluestreak, but there was nothing he could do.
"You might be worth the credits I paid after all," he growled.
He didn't even pretend not to slump in relief. T-That was good. It had to be good because he did not want to know if that whole 'only worth scrap' was true.
"Never let it be said I did nothing nice for you." He smirked wickedly. "Don't hope it to happen often."
"Y-Yes Master." Kind? Kind? He- He could take that because he was sure that was kind by Decepticon terms.
"You come to me if you wanna overload, got it? I catch you sparking off and you'll find this-" and the chain on the collar suddenly and violently made itself known again "a very short leash."
"Yes-!"
"Good," Barricade sent another pulse before disconnecting, sliding his panel closed as he pushed himself up off Bluestreak, who could only stare at him in disbelief. "You got all that?"
If he wanted - if he wanted an overload? Was the abomination against nature serious? as if he wanted anything to do with overloading ever again, thank you very much. What he wanted was - was - he didn't know. He didn't know, and he hated the feeling of dirty that was settling against him. Dirty. Disgusting. Filthy due to an unwanted touch that he didn't do enough to try to stop- "I- I-" Barricade's optics narrowed and Bluestreak flinched back. "I- Y-Yes, Master."
"Now," Barricade said, and the only other word Bluestreak understood was 'clean'.
His spark sank, yet he picked himself up, wincing when all the aches, not just from his port, hit him again. But, a glance at his captor showed Barricade expected to be obeyed.
And with no other choice, Bluestreak obeyed.
"I- cleaned for a while before Wildrider s-showed up, and he- he was in a sour mood. I never found out why, only that he wasn't kind when he hacked me to find out what it had been like for his partner to interface with me. I-I though Frenzy c-could hurt, b-but I was wrong." Bluestreak finished, optics distant, while Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shared horrified looks.
"What..."
"T-They t-took me t-together. T-Took my... my spark and ma-made it hurt," Bluestreak said between sobs, one leg pulled up against his chest.
"Your spark," Sideswipe said softly, even as Sunstreaker's rage flashed white-hot over the twin-bond, intensifying when Bluestreak nodded. Sideswipe chose not to ask how often either of the events had taken place, or what else had happened. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, and Bluestreak desperately needed to get away from the frontlines and talk to someone that could help him through this.
Plus, there was the issue of the sparkrapes, and while Sideswipe did not want to consider it... "Have you told a medic...?"
"No." The reply was fast, no hesitation. "Can't-"
"You're not dirty," Sunstreaker spoke up now, voice tight, controlled. "Barricade is Unicron-spawn. You're a victim and not at fault. He touched your spark, the very thing that makes you who you are. You should see a medic. Please."
"Not right now, but soon," Sideswipe said as Bluestreak opened his mouth. "We'll go with you.."
Given how hard Bluestreak was clinging to him.... Yea.
"I... I'll t-think about it...?"
"Ok," Sideswipe said while Sunstreaker nodded.
/You- We're doing this, aren't we?/
/He's a civilian, Sunny,/ Sideswipe sent back. /Unfrag that part of your coding and get with the picture./
/And people say I'm the worst half./
Sideswipe flashed his twin a fanged grin -Sunstreaker was the 'worst half'- before turning back to Bluestreak. Who was staring at him.
"You have fangs."
"Was built with them," he said with an easy, practised shrug. "Wanna raid the rations locker for more energon with us?"
"S-Sure?" Bluestreak squeaked, allowing himself to be helped up.
"Great," Sunstreaker said. "Stick with us, Bluestreak. We'll keep you safe."