Sideswipe was notorious for his brashness, taunting, and tendency to dive helm first into every fight he could find— often to his own detriment and those around him. He wasn’t the type to sit still or take orders without at least leaving a snarky comment in his wake. He was loud, fast, and a bit arrogant, which only seemed to be complimented by his flashy alt mode and weapons choice.

One paradoxical thing about him, however, was how much he enjoyed being bossed around. Specifically by pretty femmes who could effectively wrestle him into submission and verbally tease him right back. He loathed to admit it out loud, but it made his engine rev like only racing usually could.

Windblade and Strongarm finding out about this had to have been simultaneously one of the worst and best things to ever happen to him.

Sideswipe moaned quietly as Windblade’s digits traced swirls all across his heated chassis, teasing in a way that was quickly driving him mad.

“Windyyyyyyy,” he whined, fighting against the stasis cuffs on his wrists behind his back and the spreader bar between his knees, “C’mon, it’s been hours now! Let me overlo-oooooh…”

A long moan cut him off, hips bucking without his input when those slim digits slid down to his exposed array and continued toying with his valve. At this point, his entire array was throbbing in time with the rapid pulse of his spark and the arousal was becoming almost painful.

“Actually, it’s barely been an hour,” Strongarm so helpfully corrected, smirking down at him, “But that’s certainly a record for you, I’m sure.”

He opened his intake to retort, bantering like the two always did, only for the police bot to sneak a gag behind his denta and snap it into place with an ominous click. That didn’t completely stop him from filing a complaint though, fixing an indignant grunt and pointed glare on Strongarm in retaliation. It didn’t last long as Windblade circled his anterior node and made his entire lower body tense in pleasure.

“There. I’d say you’re prepped enough,” the jet smiled slyly down at Sideswipe, walking her messy digits up his abdomen and chassis until she reached the newly placed gag, “What’d’you think, ‘slick’?”

As if messing up his fresh wax and polish wasn’t enough, she spread his own lubricant across his derma, letting the scent of his arousal enter his olfactory sensors. He couldn’t stop the rev of his high powered engine or the sudden spike in temperature within his internal systems. He wiggled, turning his helm defiantly only to be met with Strongarm’s firm servo forcing him to look them in the optics.

“Oh, he’s ready alright,” the police bot assured on his behalf with a lighted hearted roll of the optics, an uncharacteristically mischievous smirk gracing her faceplate, “He’s been spacey and all over the place since we talked about this a few cycles ago.~”

Optics flared wide in embarrassment at being exposed like that, he yelled behind the gag, making his displeasure at such a betrayal very well known. He even thrashed a little to get the point across, though it didn’t really do much beyond scraping the paint on his wrists.

He was stilled by the soft yet steady servo of Windblade, who chuckled mirthfully. ‘Sparks sake, that sound by itself shouldn’t have made his neglected spike twitch so hard.

“Oh really?” she raised an optic ridge, leaning down so her faceplate was mere inches from his own, “Good to know.~”

Despite having been the one to nervously suggest this whole thing and how he was definitely getting off to it, he was beginning to slightly regret giving the two so much power over him. He liked being able to move freely and give just as much slag back, but the prospect of being forced to sit still and look pretty for someone else’s enjoyment piqued the interest of the small masochistic part of himself he had supposedly left behind with his criminal record.

With a chaste kiss on his nasal ridge to tickle his sensors, Windblade and Strongarm glanced at each other and switched places, the jet sitting back on her heel struts above his helm and the police bot making her way between his stabilizers. Oddly enough, despite Strongarm’s blunt digits, she knew how to be incredibly gentle with them, lightly caressing up and down his thigh guards to entice his legs to fall open further. At the same time, Windblade massaged at his jaw hinges and temples to guide him further into a relaxed position.

Groaning quietly, Sideswipe let his helm fall back and his optics shutter as the touches lulled him into a strange sense of security in spite of the constricting circumstances. Normally, he hated being stuck in stasis cuffs and unable to transform and drive away at a moment’s notice, but now, it got a completely new reaction from his frame as they continued coaxing small noises from him.

He was brought out of it by a rhythmic tap to his forehelm and he opened his optics to meet Windblade’s sultry gaze. He glanced off to the side, catching sight of the thick, dark mesh cloth dangling in her grasp. His entire frame immediately tensed back up at the sight of it, his intake suddenly going dry. Windblade seemed to catch his change in energy just as quickly as it happened, her free servo rubbing reassuring shapes into his chassis.

“We don’t have to use the blindfold if you aren’t up for it,” she reminded quietly, giving him an out.

Sideswipe, unfortunately though expectedly, didn’t accept the offer. He was never one to back down from a challenge.

:.What, afraid I’ll fall asleep on you two?.: he joked, though his tone wasn’t nearly as aloof as he tried to make it sound, :.I can handle anything you throw at me.:

Windblade, though unconvinced, obliged and carefully tied the blindfold in place. Darkness overtook his visual field, leaving him with only a few of his other senses to go off of. Sure, the sensor suite imbedded throughout his whole frame still gave him some data to work with, but it wasn’t nearly as direct or precise as his optics.

He forced a deep vent through his frame, trying to get his struts and pistons to relax like they had before, but it was much more of a struggle now. As he tried his best to remain lax, his partners continued their ministrations, peppering in a few kisses here and there to encourage the noises from before. But they didn’t come— in fact, the only noises he was making were strained and almost silent, his vocalizer shorting out as the darkness enveloping his vision somehow grew darker.

His chassis tightened, vents whining as they struggled inexplicably against the stress flooding his systems. No matter what he tried, his frame refused to listen, instead becoming more and more uncontrollable in his growing discomfort and fear. His servos fought against the stasis cuffs to no avail, clinking but not budging despite his growing hysterics.

“Sideswipe?” he heard Strongarm call out to him from a great distance, “What’s wrong?”

He opened his intake only to find it blocked, which hadn’t been a problem at all before but now it simply added to the ongoing fight with himself. He whimpered behind the gag regardless, hoping his partners would get the hint and at least remove the blindfold.

“Slick?”

He arched off the berth, a high whine escaping him as he began writhing in a desperate attempt to escape the constricting darkness. Finally biting the bullet, he resorted to comms.

:.RED.:

:.Get it off get it off get it off!.:

In a frenzy, Windblade tore the blindfold off with a loud rip, blinding Sideswipe for a moment but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Relief washed over him as his vision returned, a choked sob escaping him as his vents heaved. At this point, he didn’t even care how pathetic he sounded as his systems cycled down from the minor panic attack he’d just experienced.

He could vaguely make out his partner’s voices speaking to him, hushed and as calm as possible, but he couldn’t quite make out the exact words they were saying until he had manually forced his processor to slow down.

“Sideswipe?” Strongarm caught his attention, voice uncharacteristically soft as she leaned over him to meet his optics.

After another long klik, he finally managed to focus long enough to respond.

:.I thought… I could handle it.:

The admission was so hesitant, so vulnerable, he almost instantly regretted saying it. Luckily, he didn’t have to feel that way for long.

“Easy slick,” Windblade assured, a hand slowly petting his faceplate to help calm him, “If you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

“Did the blindfold make you claustrophobic?” Strongarm asked with uncommon gentleness, “You mentioned once before that small places make you feel… trapped.”

Sideswipe, not wanting to outright confirm such a fear, turned his helm into Windblade’s hand.

“Would you like to stop?”

:.It was just the blindfold that was the problem.: he explained, vulnerability still bleeding into his EM field despite his best efforts, :.I wanna keep going.:

His partners hesitated, sharing a look with each other. He was starting to hate when they did that because he swore they were somehow speaking a silent language no one else knew— and he wasn’t in on it.

“If you’re sure,” Windblade leaned down, her faceplate a single ventilation away from his derma, “We have all night.~”

Sideswipe, expecting some semblance of a kiss, tried his best to lift his helm and meet her halfway. Instead, Windblade smirked devilishly, grabbed the back of Strongarm’s helm, and crashed their derma together. Both Sideswipe and Strongarm were left surprised, but the police bot quickly melted into it, bringing a servo up to cup Windblade’s face and guide their kiss deeper.

Before coming to Earth and finding long-term partners, Sideswipe likely would never have understood the appeal of kissing. Thank the Primes he understood now!

Unfortunately, he preferred being the one kissed rather than being forced to just watch, spectating his partners as they slotted together perfectly. He whined for their attention, wriggling slightly. It didn’t work however, the two femmes instead becoming sloppy and making noises specifically to tease him. Arching his spinal strut, he pleaded to them with his optics, trying everything he could to get their servos and derma back on his frame.

Despite all his enticing efforts, the two continued to ignore him— and damn it all, if it didn’t rev his engine in a pleasantly weird way. This was definitely something he was going to think about before recharging, that’s for sure.

Finally, the two separated slowly, leaving a lingering peck or two as they did just to rub it in further. Primus sake, he wanted to join so bad and yet another part of him wanted them to completely ignore him and just go at it.

“Enjoying yourself, punk?~”

He couldn’t stop the high whine of his fans spinning faster, biting into the gag to hopefully muffle his vocalizer at least. In all his functioning, he’d never felt so conflicted and aroused at the same time.

“Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten about you,” Windblade cooed, both servos caressing slowly up and down his chassis, “Just wanted to have a little fun— you like fun, don’t you?”

Sideswipe nodded eagerly, oral solvent escaping around the gag as he tried to hum an affirmative. The display of desperation made Windblade laugh, which urged Strongarm into a chuckle of her own as she shuffled back between his separated stabilizers until she got comfortable. Her codpiece rubbed lightly against his exposed equipment every time she leaned down to lathe attention across his abdomen, pulling weak noises from him in the process.

He unshuttered his optics— when had he closed them?— at the sound of a soft snik to find Windblade on her knee guards hovering over his faceplate, valve glistening with lubricant and making Sideswipe’s intake water further. He tried to implore her through his field only to be interrupted by Strongarm opening her spike panel. He knew it was her spike panel without looking— her thick equipment brushing between his wet folds was all the confirmation he needed.

“Ready?”

Windblade lifted his helm, unlocking the gag and letting the mech work the ache out of his jaw hinges.

“Forged ready,” he rasped out, never taking his optics off of the prize just barely out of his reach.

That seemed to be all the confirmation Windblade needed. The moment her valve was within reach, he began kissing at her folds and lapping up lubricant, a groan of relief leaving him when he finally managed to kiss her node. A small zap of charge licked at his sensors and it urged him on even as Strongarm slowly sank into his own neglected valve.

“That’s it,” Windblade encouraged him as she ground down on his intake, “Keep at it, slick.”

Sideswipe moaned, more than happy to oblige by an order for once. His moan pitched higher at the end when Strongarm thrust up against his ceiling node, his valve fluttering in response and pulling a soft groan from the cadet.

Between the two femmes, sucking on a pulsing node and a thick spike nestled in his valve, Sideswipe believed he may just offline as the happiest mech in the known universe, which he only believed more strongly when Strongarm’s thrusting hastened and inevitably sent the speedster into an overload that overclocked his ventilation system and made his engine rev almost violently. The rough vibrations from his frame coaxed Strongarm over the edge alongside him with a surprised gasp and urged Windblade to chase her own pleasure harder.

Still high on the crest of an overload, Sideswipe redoubled his efforts in eating the jet out, humming long and low directly against her valve rim the way he knew she liked. And with a shuddering invent, the waves of a soft overload flooded through her systems, leaving her wings trembling. Primus, he wanted to run his servos along the sensitive appendages and let his derma wander all across them.

“Sweet Solus,” Strongarm panted to herself, grabbing a microfiber cloth from her subspace, “As much as I love doing this, I hate the paint transfers. And all the fluids.”

Windblade carefully lifted away from Sideswipe’s faceplate, much to his disappointment, and chuckled knowingly.

“I’m sure it doesn’t help that you don’t have any red in your paint job.”

Strongarm huffed as she wiped away the worst of the mess, deciding she would have to visit the car wash later in order to properly scrub herself down. When she was done with that, she began doing the same for Sideswipe, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet. He was usually like that after a particularly good overload, but it never hurt to make sure.

“You alright Sideswipe?” Strongarm asked as she worked.

“Yeah, yeah, just… give me a klik…”

His vents were still running hot but definitely much quieter than before and he seemed plenty content to let his partner’s deal with the mess. In all fairness though, they weren’t the ones with their servos literally tied behind their backs.

As if reading his mind, Windblade gently knocked on Strongarm’s chassis, to which the police bot opened her subspace and gave no reaction when Windblade reached in and took the key to the cuffs. She helped Sideswipe sit up so she could unlock the restraints, watching him test his wrist joints for a moment, then stored the cuffs and keys in her own subspace for safe keeping. They were only false cuffs, so Strongarm didn’t need to risk mixing them up with her real cuffs.

“Well, now we know what we won’t be doing next time,” Strongarm grimaced at the sodden cloth before pulling out a new one and handing it to Windblade, “I’ll update the sheet.”

Sideswipe groaned, still lying on his back, “Do you always have to make everything boring with lists?”

Strongarm rolled her optics but was interrupted by Windblade before she could retort back.

“It’s important to keep track of these things,” the jet pointed out, “But maybe next time, we can keep you gagged while skeptibot and I have some real fun.~”