Fic - The Adventures of Mirrorverse Vortex: Interlude II
Title: The Adventures of Mirrorverse Vortex: Interlude II
Continuity: G1, Shattered Glass
Warnings: implied drug abuse, intoxication, medical experimentation[?], BDSM, smut of the sticky variety, voyeurism
Characters/Pairings: SG!First Aid/G1!Vortex, Blades, implies SG!Blades/SG!First Aid/G1!Vortex
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Summary: While the nice Vortex has more or less trouble getting used to First Aid, the evil Vortex does not…
Prompt: Alien (prompted by casusfere)
Beta: ultharkitty :D
Note: Written as Interlude what happens with the evil Vortex in SGverse for ultharkitty’s The Adventures of Mirrorverse Vortex. :)
Takes place some time before evil!Vortex comes back in chapter 18.
Interlude II
Vortex woke up in pain.
There was a sore ache on each joint, and a sharp stinging in his head. But it was good. It meant wherever he was, he wasn't in the Detention Centre.
He needed three tries to boot up his optics, and as he did, he stared at a bleak, grey ceiling. When he tried to move, he couldn't. He'd expected that.
He could raise himself a little, however, causing his head to feel heavy, but it let him realise that he was in some kind of... lab? There were shelves on the walls, full of devices and bottles and stuff, he didn't know what it could be at all. He felt a little like visiting Hook's medbay before the war, back on Cybertron, only messier and less clean.
Vortex was chained to a berth, or a lab table, restraints on his ankles and wrists, and it made him feel as though he was a test subject.
Maybe he was, he mused, and thought of the Quintessons.
Oh great..., Vortex thought as his head dropped back with a clank. He vented air deeply, and tried to remember, but it was so hard. His processor was dizzy, and the giddiness grew when he tried to access certain parts of his databanks.
It was odd, and funny.
Vortex couldn't help but giggle quietly as a tickling spread from his head down his spinal struts and then dissolved into a weird sensation of sickness. It wasn't really unpleasant, it was just, well, weird.
So, apparently someone did something to him to block his memory banks, or a part of them, at least. He knew he'd been fighting the Autobots on Earth... and then there was nothing.
Vortex tried the bond, only to find out that this was odd, too. He couldn't even say if it was still open, but when he checked the coding, it seemed to be. He just couldn't feel his team mates any more. They were still there, sort of, just not the way they used to be. As though something was blocking their connection.
With a huff, Vortex shifted a little, rotor blades scratching over the metal surface; it tingled on sensitive sensor nodes. He tugged at his restraints, but they didn't move, and only increased the soreness in his arm joints.
Okay, so there was no escape. Not now, anyway, with his head in the clouds. Because the more he thought and regained his consciousness, the more the dizziness spread and made his processor slow, giving him the feeling of contentment and satisfaction, causing him not even want to escape at all.
Vortex giggled again, when he realised that, and his vocaliser only produced static.
---
About four breems passed, then a sound of a door opening and footsteps echoed through the room.
Vortex had offlined his optics again. His attempt to stop thinking and to get rid of the drowsy sensation wasn't as successful as he’d hoped, and he'd almost fallen in recharge again.
"Sooo~..." someone said, prolonging the word in a way that'd make Blast Off furious.
Vortex' optics flickered back online, but he couldn't see anyone. He frowned. The voice seemed familiar, even though he couldn't make fully sense of it yet.
More footsteps, a second person arrived, and the door closed. It was the sound of metal feet on metal ground, and Vortex knew he hadn't been caught by the Quintessons.
Well, at least that was something...
"He's awake?" a new voice asked. There was an aggressive undertone to it, and again it was familiar.
"He is, he is." the first voice sounded weirdly amused, and a little... out of it. It actually sounded like how Vortex was feeling when he thought too much. "So, you're gonna watch?"
"Not watching, taking care that you don't break him. Hot Spot's orders."
Hot Spot?
That made Vortex crane. His shoulder blades tensed, and his rotor hub hurt as he leant up as much as he could.
The door was at the right end of the room, and he saw a mech leaning against the frame. A rotary, Vortex was sure he'd seen the stature before, but the colours weren't the same. Behind his visor, optics roved around, observing the other mech, smaller than the one at the door. He noticed a red visor and a battle mask covering his face as the mech turned, a device in his hand.
Vortex wanted to say something, something witty, but only static emerged from his vocaliser.
He frowned.
The mech at the door tilted his head; the smaller one giggled.
"Hehehe, don't try to talk. You can't." He was addressing Vortex, coming closer as he did so. "I gave you something... feels good, doesn't it? Keeps you from thinking too much." He stepped next to Vortex, raising his hand, the strange device suddenly gone, replaced by something Vortex just knew too well.
“Sadly, it has some side effects and disrupts the signal flow between your processor and vocaliser.” The mech sighed theatrically, earning an annoyed huff from the rotary.
“How’s he supposed to tell us stuff when he can’t talk?”
“He doesn’t need to talk; I’ll take a look inside him.”
“You’re an idiot, First Aid.”
First Aid?
Vortex forced himself to focus, optics mapping out the mech’s frame. It was mostly grey with a few white and light blue parts, but it seemed as familiar as his voice, and even though the hands had a different colour, they were still as intriguing as the ones from the cute Autobot medic.
This still didn’t make much sense, especially as his thoughts drifted again. Vortex’ focus slipped and he just found it hilarious.
With a last moment of coherence, he reasoned that the rotary had to be Blades.
Vortex’ optics flickered, his head rolled to the side.
“D’awww, isn’t he cute? He's trying to think again.”
Blades waved a hand, shrugging. “Whatever. At least Groove won’t complain about your subject screaming too loud. But don’t break him… much.”
The parts of the conversation which made sense to Vortex reminded him of how he worked. It was both interesting and a little creepy - in a good way - to experience the other side.
First Aid didn’t respond to what Blades said, but mumbled to himself - or to Vortex, the ‘copter didn’t know. “Well, well… let’s see how you look.”
The device in the Autobot’s hand was activated and, like Vortex had thought, it was a laser scalpel. Its blade cut through the metal of his battle mask, digging too deep and burning into Vortex' face plates. It was a hot stinging pain which surged right into his processor and dampened the odd dizziness with pleasure.
Vortex' vocaliser produced a choked sound, then a keen whimper. Energon flowed down his cheek and neck cables; he felt it - this and the cool air on his cut face when First Aid removed the mask.
The Autobot's red visor brightened for an astrosecond, and he tilted his head.
"He looks like him..." Grey hands patted Vortex on his helm. "But you are not him. You're from beyond, right?"
Beyond? Vortex didn't know what it meant, but now he was sure that these mechs weren't the Autobots he knew from battle. With the exception of their different colours, they also didn't act very Autobottish.
Which didn't make them less intriguing, though.
First Aid looked at Vortex for another moment, then moved on, bringing the scalpel to his chest plating, cutting into the metal next to his intakes. It was only deep enough to penetrate his plating, not any lines or circuits beneath, but it was wonderful.
His vents hitched as his sensor net was busy with sensations. Rotors began quivering, clattering against the metal of the berth, and Vortex hoped the mech wouldn't stop there.
And the sensations didn't stop. They crawled over his sensor net, causing him to sigh as his optics flickered and a large plating was cut off his chest. First Aid lifted the loose metal, revealing Vortex' laser core and inner workings. A warning flashed in his HUD, but it was nothing life threatening. It was just amusing, and it felt good.
"Let's see..." First Aid said in a sing-song voice, deactivating the scalpel. It disappointed Vortex a little, but the grey hand which he could easily imagine to be white prodded his fuel pump. It was dangerous, and increased his rotors shivering, lip plates tugging to a grin.
Experienced fingers stroked over bare energon lines and circuits. It was partly painful, partly ticklish, but always arousing. With a shudder, Vortex arched into the touch, and he wasn't angry at all that he couldn't think.
Then, the Autobot giggled. "Blades, look. I think this one is different."
The caresses stopped, and the Autobot vanished for a moment from Vortex' field of vision. Metal clattered against metal, drowning the sound of Vortex' intakes, and suddenly there was weight on him.
First Aid straddled him; sitting on his thighs, he stared down at Vortex. Poking another few bits of his innards, he then onlined the scalpel again. The blade's light produced a pinkish glow on the grey of First Aid's frame, and intoxicated as he was, Vortex found it hilarious. He giggled, too. Along with First Aid - the irritated huff from Blades went unnoticed.
It was a staticky muffled giggling from Vortex, and it changed to a gargling sigh when the blade touched the metal again. This time, it wasn't for examination, he knew it, because he’d done the same with his subjects. It was only for fun. It burnt into the plating, burnt sensor nodes, and the ache was wonderful. The inebriated thoughts he had were allowed to drift and be lost into a cloud of bliss.
Vortex' frame heated up, engine revving hard when the hot sharp instrument cut through an especially sensitive sensor cluster.
It made First Aid shift, leaning over him so close Vortex could see the optics behind his visor.
"Amazing..." he said, his tone again as though he was completely out of it. If he wasn't wearing a face mask, Vortex guessed he'd see a broad grin.
They stared at each other for a few astroseconds, but then Vortex' optics offlined, and his vocaliser was allowed to produce an actual moan as First Aid cut though his rotor blade.
Vortex writhed, arching up as much as he could while restrained; but the pressure on ankles and wrists caused another sensation, travelling up his arms and legs into his groin.
“Aid, what did you give him?” The annoyed words hardly registered as the blade cut the length of his rotor anew. His energy field flared hard.
The mech on him laughed softly and shuffled a little, sliding a bit further down to Vortex' knees. “Nothing, honest. This one just likes pain…”
"Oh, really?" It sounded doubtful, but Vortex didn't hear it at all when the sudden sensations of cold fingers on his spike cover made his audials glitch for an astrosecond.
Oh frag, he needed to see that! Struggling to regain a little coherence, Vortex forced his optics to reboot. His first attempt failed, but then he succeeded, little colourful lights dancing in his HUD as the touch increased. He craned his head, watching through the static of his vision as the Autobot groped and stroked his abdomen and interfacing hardware.
"Nooo~" First Aid answered, words slurred. "Look... he just likes it..." The blade was still there, coming closer to his plating; sensitive nodes took in the warmth of it, and then went numb. Only for the shortest of moments, however, because after the numbness, it hurt. It was gloriously intense as the scalpel cut off his cover.
Vortex groaned. It was hard not to throw his head back, but he was rewarded with the view of his spike emerging and a grey finger poking its tip.
"Hnng!" Another whimper, energy field fluctuating and Vortex' hands clenched to fists.
"He just likes pain..." First Aid repeated, and added, "A lot."
More fingers joined the one and wrapped around Vortex' length. He barely realised the hand becoming warmer as well as the other's plating. Though he did notice the Autobot's energy field brushing his. Vortex grinned again, lip plates twitching from the effect of the drugs and pleasure-pain.
"Blades... Blades, look..." The voice was almost pleading. First Aid looked at the rotary at the door, but Vortex only stared at the hand on him.
"What?!"
First Aid giggled. And suddenly, Vortex' vision frizzed.
He loved when pain and pleasure mingled to sensational intensity in which he could no longer discern the one from the other. Lips pressed together, intakes coming in short, sharp vents as the laser scalpel cut the length of his spike. It was a sting which travelled through all his circuits, and was almost like overload, just not as prolonged.
The sensation ebbed, his HUD cleared, and First Aid's battle mask was withdrawn. The Autobot bit his lip, his optics focused on Vortex' spike.
This time, First Aid didn't giggle, he just deactivated the blade, and leant low. The tip of the glossa dipped into the energon which flowed out of the cut, and Vortex' engine revved. Then, his spike vanished into the other's mouth. The grip on his waist pushing him down hindered him bucking his hips, the warmth around him burning on the wound in such a wonderful way, Vortex thought he'd overload any second.
First Aid's head bobbed a few times; Vortex moaned, fingers digging into his palms.
Slag, yes. Like this! he wanted to say, but couldn't. Staticky moans and whimpers, incoherent fragments of words were all that left his vocaliser, but he didn't care as long as the Autobot didn't stop.
"What are you doing?" These words caused exactly what Vortex' didn't want.
First Aid's mouth went over his spike a last time, glossa and denta teasing it, scraping the cut. Then they withdrew, and Vortex whimpered in disappointment.
"Blaaa~des..." First Aid wailed, and shifted. "Please... let me have him." A finger trailed along the length of the spike, but the Autobot was looking at his partner.
Oh frag yes! was all Vortex could think, his hips lifting, aching into the touch.
A huff was the only answer - at first.
The grey Autobot pressed on his thighs. He bit his lower lip again, one hand on Vortex' spike, the fingers of the other stroking down his own chest, mapping out transformation seams along their way until they reached between his legs.
A 'copter engine revved; this time, however, it was Blades’.
Vortex moaned.
"I'll be nice to you later. Please..." First Aid bucked against his hand, voice becoming staticky, optics dim as he sighed. "Please let me..."
Mesmerised by the view, Vortex only heard Blades' intakes hitching.
"Fine," the voice rasped, "I'll remind you of that!"
First Aid nodded enthusiastically, and Vortex heard a cover sliding open.
Oh frag, was this really happening?
Before Vortex could even try to make sense of events, he was engulfed in hot wet pleasure.
He moaned, as did First Aid. The Autobot making a noise that sounded like blissful relief.
Vortex thought he’d overload instantly. It was tight, and hot, and the lubricant burnt like acid on the cut from the scalpel. The effect of the drugs had made thinking very hard, but now it was impossible. A dizzy delight filled Vortex’ consciousness as First Aid began to move slowly. Gyrating his hips, his valve clenching around Vortex, his body reacted by itself. As much as he could, Vortex met the other’s motions. Arms and legs tensed, partly so as not to overload on the spot, partly to gain more leverage as he pushed upwards. The restraints hurt in a good way, scratching and denting him.
The arousal increased, the pleasure rose every time his spike sank into the Autobot. Hot sensations surged through him, making Vortex gasp and shudder.
And First Aid looked so good.
He rode his spike, the pace becoming faster, his hoarse sighs more wanton. He bit the back of his index finger to dampen his noises, always staring at Vortex who stared back.
The other hand was again at the ‘copter’s inner workings, tugging at energon lines, scratching over circuitry, and Vortex didn’t know how long he’d last.
That he was reminded they were being watched didn’t help at all.
“Aid, I wanna hear you!” Blades growled, static-laden, still standing at the door.
First Aid did as he was told. His hand slid down again, and his moaning became louder almost instantly.
“Ahaha~ haa… Blades… he’s good,” he mumbled while clenching around Vortex’ throbbing spike. “That’s, hmmm...!”
First Aid leant down once more, looking straight into Vortex’ face, and the copter could see a smudge of energon on the side of the lips. His energon.
Vortex groaned, thrusting up harder. Fingers dented when fists tensed even more, and his energy field flared wildly when hot gusts of First Aid’s vents brushed over his exposed chest.
This was almost too much. His head dropped back, shoulders tensing, pressing against the berth so that he could buck his hips better, thrusting in deeper. The first warnings popped up in his HUD, but he didn’t care. He offlined his optics, the pleasure and pain and heat - all together an ocean of burning sensations - were suddenly more intense, and his strained sensor net caused his audials to malfunction.
Hissing filled them, and Vortex missed most of First Aid’s cries of pleasure. He could hear Blades' name now and then, but never his own within the moaning and gasping and encouraging, frantic noises. They mingled with Vortex’ whimpers and staticky groaning, and the clang of metal.
Rotors quivered, painful where they were cut, and it all mixed to the incredible charge building up.
Vortex couldn’t say how long he lasted on the brink of arousal where everything seemed to stretch into endless pleasure. It felt like an eternity, and if he’d been possessed of his senses, he’d have blamed the drugs.
As it was, though, it was just delight. Thoughts stopped, while sensor nodes worked on their highest settings and eventually surrendered to the charge.
Overload hit Vortex like a crash into a lava sea. It burnt in waves, and crept deeper and deeper and deeper. Sensations offlined and onlined nodes randomly, making Vortex’ joints glitch as he tensed and his body shuddered. His energy field pushed against First Aid’s as strong as his hips thrust into the contracting valve.
Over him, the Autobot overloaded, too. He was loud, uninhibited and even tighter than before. Fingers crawled on plating, the pain prolonging Vortex’ climax.
With a last staticky keen, Vortex slumped, the intense post overload surges of tingling swapping over him.
It took kliks before Vortex could even attempt to think straight again. His panting ventilation mixed with First Aid’s, who still sat on him, had him in him, and he grinned.
“Hmmm…” First Aid sighed, gazing at Blades, who didn’t stand at the door anymore, but came closer. “Blades…”
The other ‘copter came to a halt next to First Aid, not acknowledging Vortex’ staring, even though Vortex could sense the heat radiating off the other’s black plating.
“Here,” the dark Blades said, giving First Aid something which Vortex couldn’t identify, probably had never seen before.
The medic took it with a grin. Something clicked, and First Aid plugged it into a port on his side. The grin became a languorous smile while the optics flickered and his body shuddered.
“Blades… you should try him. He’s good,” First Aid mumbled, his valve clenching, making Vortex gasp. “I mean really good…”
“Is that so?”
First Aid nodded, his hand letting go of Vortex’ open chest plating and taking hold of Blades’ helm. He tugged him closer, pressing their lips together, and Vortex heard Blades laughing softly.
Something clicked, then another sliding sound, and Vortex’ glance dropped from the two mechs kissing hungrily to Blades’ pressurised spike extending. It was as black as almost all his frame, and both Blades and Vortex moaned when First Aid began stroking it.
The sight was thrilling, and Vortex’ optics flickered as he thrust into First Aid again without his conscious intention.
“Oh yes!” First Aid groaned into the kiss needily, hips began moving slowly once more, and he nodded only briefly.
Vortex saw Blades looking at him from the corner of his optics for a moment. Then he broke the kiss, letting First Aid nibble at his throat as he turned to Vortex, voice rasping.
“You better behave,” he smirked. A black hand reached for the metal brace which held his wrist in place.
It snapped open; Vortex grinned back.
Also posted here
Continuity: G1, Shattered Glass
Warnings: implied drug abuse, intoxication, medical experimentation[?], BDSM, smut of the sticky variety, voyeurism
Characters/Pairings: SG!First Aid/G1!Vortex, Blades, implies SG!Blades/SG!First Aid/G1!Vortex
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.
Summary: While the nice Vortex has more or less trouble getting used to First Aid, the evil Vortex does not…
Prompt: Alien (prompted by casusfere)
Beta: ultharkitty :D
Note: Written as Interlude what happens with the evil Vortex in SGverse for ultharkitty’s The Adventures of Mirrorverse Vortex. :)
Takes place some time before evil!Vortex comes back in chapter 18.
Interlude II
Vortex woke up in pain.
There was a sore ache on each joint, and a sharp stinging in his head. But it was good. It meant wherever he was, he wasn't in the Detention Centre.
He needed three tries to boot up his optics, and as he did, he stared at a bleak, grey ceiling. When he tried to move, he couldn't. He'd expected that.
He could raise himself a little, however, causing his head to feel heavy, but it let him realise that he was in some kind of... lab? There were shelves on the walls, full of devices and bottles and stuff, he didn't know what it could be at all. He felt a little like visiting Hook's medbay before the war, back on Cybertron, only messier and less clean.
Vortex was chained to a berth, or a lab table, restraints on his ankles and wrists, and it made him feel as though he was a test subject.
Maybe he was, he mused, and thought of the Quintessons.
Oh great..., Vortex thought as his head dropped back with a clank. He vented air deeply, and tried to remember, but it was so hard. His processor was dizzy, and the giddiness grew when he tried to access certain parts of his databanks.
It was odd, and funny.
Vortex couldn't help but giggle quietly as a tickling spread from his head down his spinal struts and then dissolved into a weird sensation of sickness. It wasn't really unpleasant, it was just, well, weird.
So, apparently someone did something to him to block his memory banks, or a part of them, at least. He knew he'd been fighting the Autobots on Earth... and then there was nothing.
Vortex tried the bond, only to find out that this was odd, too. He couldn't even say if it was still open, but when he checked the coding, it seemed to be. He just couldn't feel his team mates any more. They were still there, sort of, just not the way they used to be. As though something was blocking their connection.
With a huff, Vortex shifted a little, rotor blades scratching over the metal surface; it tingled on sensitive sensor nodes. He tugged at his restraints, but they didn't move, and only increased the soreness in his arm joints.
Okay, so there was no escape. Not now, anyway, with his head in the clouds. Because the more he thought and regained his consciousness, the more the dizziness spread and made his processor slow, giving him the feeling of contentment and satisfaction, causing him not even want to escape at all.
Vortex giggled again, when he realised that, and his vocaliser only produced static.
---
About four breems passed, then a sound of a door opening and footsteps echoed through the room.
Vortex had offlined his optics again. His attempt to stop thinking and to get rid of the drowsy sensation wasn't as successful as he’d hoped, and he'd almost fallen in recharge again.
"Sooo~..." someone said, prolonging the word in a way that'd make Blast Off furious.
Vortex' optics flickered back online, but he couldn't see anyone. He frowned. The voice seemed familiar, even though he couldn't make fully sense of it yet.
More footsteps, a second person arrived, and the door closed. It was the sound of metal feet on metal ground, and Vortex knew he hadn't been caught by the Quintessons.
Well, at least that was something...
"He's awake?" a new voice asked. There was an aggressive undertone to it, and again it was familiar.
"He is, he is." the first voice sounded weirdly amused, and a little... out of it. It actually sounded like how Vortex was feeling when he thought too much. "So, you're gonna watch?"
"Not watching, taking care that you don't break him. Hot Spot's orders."
Hot Spot?
That made Vortex crane. His shoulder blades tensed, and his rotor hub hurt as he leant up as much as he could.
The door was at the right end of the room, and he saw a mech leaning against the frame. A rotary, Vortex was sure he'd seen the stature before, but the colours weren't the same. Behind his visor, optics roved around, observing the other mech, smaller than the one at the door. He noticed a red visor and a battle mask covering his face as the mech turned, a device in his hand.
Vortex wanted to say something, something witty, but only static emerged from his vocaliser.
He frowned.
The mech at the door tilted his head; the smaller one giggled.
"Hehehe, don't try to talk. You can't." He was addressing Vortex, coming closer as he did so. "I gave you something... feels good, doesn't it? Keeps you from thinking too much." He stepped next to Vortex, raising his hand, the strange device suddenly gone, replaced by something Vortex just knew too well.
“Sadly, it has some side effects and disrupts the signal flow between your processor and vocaliser.” The mech sighed theatrically, earning an annoyed huff from the rotary.
“How’s he supposed to tell us stuff when he can’t talk?”
“He doesn’t need to talk; I’ll take a look inside him.”
“You’re an idiot, First Aid.”
First Aid?
Vortex forced himself to focus, optics mapping out the mech’s frame. It was mostly grey with a few white and light blue parts, but it seemed as familiar as his voice, and even though the hands had a different colour, they were still as intriguing as the ones from the cute Autobot medic.
This still didn’t make much sense, especially as his thoughts drifted again. Vortex’ focus slipped and he just found it hilarious.
With a last moment of coherence, he reasoned that the rotary had to be Blades.
Vortex’ optics flickered, his head rolled to the side.
“D’awww, isn’t he cute? He's trying to think again.”
Blades waved a hand, shrugging. “Whatever. At least Groove won’t complain about your subject screaming too loud. But don’t break him… much.”
The parts of the conversation which made sense to Vortex reminded him of how he worked. It was both interesting and a little creepy - in a good way - to experience the other side.
First Aid didn’t respond to what Blades said, but mumbled to himself - or to Vortex, the ‘copter didn’t know. “Well, well… let’s see how you look.”
The device in the Autobot’s hand was activated and, like Vortex had thought, it was a laser scalpel. Its blade cut through the metal of his battle mask, digging too deep and burning into Vortex' face plates. It was a hot stinging pain which surged right into his processor and dampened the odd dizziness with pleasure.
Vortex' vocaliser produced a choked sound, then a keen whimper. Energon flowed down his cheek and neck cables; he felt it - this and the cool air on his cut face when First Aid removed the mask.
The Autobot's red visor brightened for an astrosecond, and he tilted his head.
"He looks like him..." Grey hands patted Vortex on his helm. "But you are not him. You're from beyond, right?"
Beyond? Vortex didn't know what it meant, but now he was sure that these mechs weren't the Autobots he knew from battle. With the exception of their different colours, they also didn't act very Autobottish.
Which didn't make them less intriguing, though.
First Aid looked at Vortex for another moment, then moved on, bringing the scalpel to his chest plating, cutting into the metal next to his intakes. It was only deep enough to penetrate his plating, not any lines or circuits beneath, but it was wonderful.
His vents hitched as his sensor net was busy with sensations. Rotors began quivering, clattering against the metal of the berth, and Vortex hoped the mech wouldn't stop there.
And the sensations didn't stop. They crawled over his sensor net, causing him to sigh as his optics flickered and a large plating was cut off his chest. First Aid lifted the loose metal, revealing Vortex' laser core and inner workings. A warning flashed in his HUD, but it was nothing life threatening. It was just amusing, and it felt good.
"Let's see..." First Aid said in a sing-song voice, deactivating the scalpel. It disappointed Vortex a little, but the grey hand which he could easily imagine to be white prodded his fuel pump. It was dangerous, and increased his rotors shivering, lip plates tugging to a grin.
Experienced fingers stroked over bare energon lines and circuits. It was partly painful, partly ticklish, but always arousing. With a shudder, Vortex arched into the touch, and he wasn't angry at all that he couldn't think.
Then, the Autobot giggled. "Blades, look. I think this one is different."
The caresses stopped, and the Autobot vanished for a moment from Vortex' field of vision. Metal clattered against metal, drowning the sound of Vortex' intakes, and suddenly there was weight on him.
First Aid straddled him; sitting on his thighs, he stared down at Vortex. Poking another few bits of his innards, he then onlined the scalpel again. The blade's light produced a pinkish glow on the grey of First Aid's frame, and intoxicated as he was, Vortex found it hilarious. He giggled, too. Along with First Aid - the irritated huff from Blades went unnoticed.
It was a staticky muffled giggling from Vortex, and it changed to a gargling sigh when the blade touched the metal again. This time, it wasn't for examination, he knew it, because he’d done the same with his subjects. It was only for fun. It burnt into the plating, burnt sensor nodes, and the ache was wonderful. The inebriated thoughts he had were allowed to drift and be lost into a cloud of bliss.
Vortex' frame heated up, engine revving hard when the hot sharp instrument cut through an especially sensitive sensor cluster.
It made First Aid shift, leaning over him so close Vortex could see the optics behind his visor.
"Amazing..." he said, his tone again as though he was completely out of it. If he wasn't wearing a face mask, Vortex guessed he'd see a broad grin.
They stared at each other for a few astroseconds, but then Vortex' optics offlined, and his vocaliser was allowed to produce an actual moan as First Aid cut though his rotor blade.
Vortex writhed, arching up as much as he could while restrained; but the pressure on ankles and wrists caused another sensation, travelling up his arms and legs into his groin.
“Aid, what did you give him?” The annoyed words hardly registered as the blade cut the length of his rotor anew. His energy field flared hard.
The mech on him laughed softly and shuffled a little, sliding a bit further down to Vortex' knees. “Nothing, honest. This one just likes pain…”
"Oh, really?" It sounded doubtful, but Vortex didn't hear it at all when the sudden sensations of cold fingers on his spike cover made his audials glitch for an astrosecond.
Oh frag, he needed to see that! Struggling to regain a little coherence, Vortex forced his optics to reboot. His first attempt failed, but then he succeeded, little colourful lights dancing in his HUD as the touch increased. He craned his head, watching through the static of his vision as the Autobot groped and stroked his abdomen and interfacing hardware.
"Nooo~" First Aid answered, words slurred. "Look... he just likes it..." The blade was still there, coming closer to his plating; sensitive nodes took in the warmth of it, and then went numb. Only for the shortest of moments, however, because after the numbness, it hurt. It was gloriously intense as the scalpel cut off his cover.
Vortex groaned. It was hard not to throw his head back, but he was rewarded with the view of his spike emerging and a grey finger poking its tip.
"Hnng!" Another whimper, energy field fluctuating and Vortex' hands clenched to fists.
"He just likes pain..." First Aid repeated, and added, "A lot."
More fingers joined the one and wrapped around Vortex' length. He barely realised the hand becoming warmer as well as the other's plating. Though he did notice the Autobot's energy field brushing his. Vortex grinned again, lip plates twitching from the effect of the drugs and pleasure-pain.
"Blades... Blades, look..." The voice was almost pleading. First Aid looked at the rotary at the door, but Vortex only stared at the hand on him.
"What?!"
First Aid giggled. And suddenly, Vortex' vision frizzed.
He loved when pain and pleasure mingled to sensational intensity in which he could no longer discern the one from the other. Lips pressed together, intakes coming in short, sharp vents as the laser scalpel cut the length of his spike. It was a sting which travelled through all his circuits, and was almost like overload, just not as prolonged.
The sensation ebbed, his HUD cleared, and First Aid's battle mask was withdrawn. The Autobot bit his lip, his optics focused on Vortex' spike.
This time, First Aid didn't giggle, he just deactivated the blade, and leant low. The tip of the glossa dipped into the energon which flowed out of the cut, and Vortex' engine revved. Then, his spike vanished into the other's mouth. The grip on his waist pushing him down hindered him bucking his hips, the warmth around him burning on the wound in such a wonderful way, Vortex thought he'd overload any second.
First Aid's head bobbed a few times; Vortex moaned, fingers digging into his palms.
Slag, yes. Like this! he wanted to say, but couldn't. Staticky moans and whimpers, incoherent fragments of words were all that left his vocaliser, but he didn't care as long as the Autobot didn't stop.
"What are you doing?" These words caused exactly what Vortex' didn't want.
First Aid's mouth went over his spike a last time, glossa and denta teasing it, scraping the cut. Then they withdrew, and Vortex whimpered in disappointment.
"Blaaa~des..." First Aid wailed, and shifted. "Please... let me have him." A finger trailed along the length of the spike, but the Autobot was looking at his partner.
Oh frag yes! was all Vortex could think, his hips lifting, aching into the touch.
A huff was the only answer - at first.
The grey Autobot pressed on his thighs. He bit his lower lip again, one hand on Vortex' spike, the fingers of the other stroking down his own chest, mapping out transformation seams along their way until they reached between his legs.
A 'copter engine revved; this time, however, it was Blades’.
Vortex moaned.
"I'll be nice to you later. Please..." First Aid bucked against his hand, voice becoming staticky, optics dim as he sighed. "Please let me..."
Mesmerised by the view, Vortex only heard Blades' intakes hitching.
"Fine," the voice rasped, "I'll remind you of that!"
First Aid nodded enthusiastically, and Vortex heard a cover sliding open.
Oh frag, was this really happening?
Before Vortex could even try to make sense of events, he was engulfed in hot wet pleasure.
He moaned, as did First Aid. The Autobot making a noise that sounded like blissful relief.
Vortex thought he’d overload instantly. It was tight, and hot, and the lubricant burnt like acid on the cut from the scalpel. The effect of the drugs had made thinking very hard, but now it was impossible. A dizzy delight filled Vortex’ consciousness as First Aid began to move slowly. Gyrating his hips, his valve clenching around Vortex, his body reacted by itself. As much as he could, Vortex met the other’s motions. Arms and legs tensed, partly so as not to overload on the spot, partly to gain more leverage as he pushed upwards. The restraints hurt in a good way, scratching and denting him.
The arousal increased, the pleasure rose every time his spike sank into the Autobot. Hot sensations surged through him, making Vortex gasp and shudder.
And First Aid looked so good.
He rode his spike, the pace becoming faster, his hoarse sighs more wanton. He bit the back of his index finger to dampen his noises, always staring at Vortex who stared back.
The other hand was again at the ‘copter’s inner workings, tugging at energon lines, scratching over circuitry, and Vortex didn’t know how long he’d last.
That he was reminded they were being watched didn’t help at all.
“Aid, I wanna hear you!” Blades growled, static-laden, still standing at the door.
First Aid did as he was told. His hand slid down again, and his moaning became louder almost instantly.
“Ahaha~ haa… Blades… he’s good,” he mumbled while clenching around Vortex’ throbbing spike. “That’s, hmmm...!”
First Aid leant down once more, looking straight into Vortex’ face, and the copter could see a smudge of energon on the side of the lips. His energon.
Vortex groaned, thrusting up harder. Fingers dented when fists tensed even more, and his energy field flared wildly when hot gusts of First Aid’s vents brushed over his exposed chest.
This was almost too much. His head dropped back, shoulders tensing, pressing against the berth so that he could buck his hips better, thrusting in deeper. The first warnings popped up in his HUD, but he didn’t care. He offlined his optics, the pleasure and pain and heat - all together an ocean of burning sensations - were suddenly more intense, and his strained sensor net caused his audials to malfunction.
Hissing filled them, and Vortex missed most of First Aid’s cries of pleasure. He could hear Blades' name now and then, but never his own within the moaning and gasping and encouraging, frantic noises. They mingled with Vortex’ whimpers and staticky groaning, and the clang of metal.
Rotors quivered, painful where they were cut, and it all mixed to the incredible charge building up.
Vortex couldn’t say how long he lasted on the brink of arousal where everything seemed to stretch into endless pleasure. It felt like an eternity, and if he’d been possessed of his senses, he’d have blamed the drugs.
As it was, though, it was just delight. Thoughts stopped, while sensor nodes worked on their highest settings and eventually surrendered to the charge.
Overload hit Vortex like a crash into a lava sea. It burnt in waves, and crept deeper and deeper and deeper. Sensations offlined and onlined nodes randomly, making Vortex’ joints glitch as he tensed and his body shuddered. His energy field pushed against First Aid’s as strong as his hips thrust into the contracting valve.
Over him, the Autobot overloaded, too. He was loud, uninhibited and even tighter than before. Fingers crawled on plating, the pain prolonging Vortex’ climax.
With a last staticky keen, Vortex slumped, the intense post overload surges of tingling swapping over him.
It took kliks before Vortex could even attempt to think straight again. His panting ventilation mixed with First Aid’s, who still sat on him, had him in him, and he grinned.
“Hmmm…” First Aid sighed, gazing at Blades, who didn’t stand at the door anymore, but came closer. “Blades…”
The other ‘copter came to a halt next to First Aid, not acknowledging Vortex’ staring, even though Vortex could sense the heat radiating off the other’s black plating.
“Here,” the dark Blades said, giving First Aid something which Vortex couldn’t identify, probably had never seen before.
The medic took it with a grin. Something clicked, and First Aid plugged it into a port on his side. The grin became a languorous smile while the optics flickered and his body shuddered.
“Blades… you should try him. He’s good,” First Aid mumbled, his valve clenching, making Vortex gasp. “I mean really good…”
“Is that so?”
First Aid nodded, his hand letting go of Vortex’ open chest plating and taking hold of Blades’ helm. He tugged him closer, pressing their lips together, and Vortex heard Blades laughing softly.
Something clicked, then another sliding sound, and Vortex’ glance dropped from the two mechs kissing hungrily to Blades’ pressurised spike extending. It was as black as almost all his frame, and both Blades and Vortex moaned when First Aid began stroking it.
The sight was thrilling, and Vortex’ optics flickered as he thrust into First Aid again without his conscious intention.
“Oh yes!” First Aid groaned into the kiss needily, hips began moving slowly once more, and he nodded only briefly.
Vortex saw Blades looking at him from the corner of his optics for a moment. Then he broke the kiss, letting First Aid nibble at his throat as he turned to Vortex, voice rasping.
“You better behave,” he smirked. A black hand reached for the metal brace which held his wrist in place.
It snapped open; Vortex grinned back.
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