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Collections	By : geminigirl83 Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > AU/AR Views: 19825 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
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Title: Unorthodox Pet 2
Pairing: Lockdown/Swindle/???
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: anal, AU, facial, frot, major penetration, oral, slash, sticky, tentacles, threesome
Summary: (Sequel to this http://geminigirl83.livejournal.com/10930.html#cutid1.) Swindle joins in on the fun.
A/N: I really wanted to do a sequel, and I love Lockdown/Swindle, so this is what I came up with. I was inspired from this pic http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/view/609120/ by zephony. You need a Y! gallery account and need to be logged in to view it. Stellar cycle=one year and nanoklik=about a second.

Swindle couldn’t believe that Lockdown had invited him aboard the Death’s Head. After being chewed out over selling a pet that turned into a behemoth, he figured Lockdown wouldn’t want to see him for quite a few stellar cycles. It seemed odd, but Lockdown was one of his best customers and a friend, so he quickly docked aboard the ship. When he entered the main room, there was a cube of energon at a table, and he walked over, gazing around for Lockdown. There was no sign of the bounty hunter. Now that was really odd.

“Lockdown?” Swindle called out.

There was a noise, a mix of a moan and a growl, coming toward the end of a hall. Swindle shook his helm and laughed before drinking the energon. It sounded like Lockdown was watching porn, and this wouldn’t be the first time he walked in on the bounty hunter during “intimate alone time”.

“I’m coming down the hall, Lockdown,” Swindle stated. “You have a few nanokliks to get yours spike back in your armor.”

At the end of the hall, behind a steel door, the moans and growls intensified. Whatever Lockdown was watching, he definitely wanted to see. Whoever was getting ‘faced on the video was making the hottest noises he had ever heard. He could feel his spike starting to pressurize from the sensual sounds.

“Last chance to get decent, pal,” Swindle chuckled, “but keep the video playing. I want to see who the hot bot moaning is…”

The door slid open, and Swindle’s optics widened in shock at what greeted him. Within a sea of massive, wriggling, translucent tentacles, Lockdown was writhing and moaning, legs splayed wide open, green thighs stained with fluid, spike erect and port stretched open by four pumping tendrils. Lockdown’s optics squeezed shut as he let out a sharp scream, tendrils thrusting faster as he overloaded, lubricant splattering over his abdomen. Swindle nervously gulped and wiped away the condensation forming on his brow. He shouldn’t have been watching this, but he couldn’t avert his gaze. Lockdown, panting and mewling from the afterglow of overload, armor shiny from condensation, alabaster cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, was slaggin’ hot.

“Ooh…hi there, Swindle,” Lockdown panted. “Didn’t realize you boarded. I was a bit…preoccupied…as you can see.”

Swindle blushed and lowered his optics. “S--Sorry…I…”

“Don’t be,” Lockdown snickered, giving the arms dealer a wink. “I wanted you to see, and I’m guessing you enjoyed the show. Don’t try to deny it.”

Before Swindle could protest, a tendril shot out and coiled around his wrist, yanking him into the room beside Lockdown. Other tentacles wrapped around his arm and legs, holding him in place as Lockdown rubbed his chassis in a soothing manner.

“No need to worry,” Lockdown cooed. “Chernabog won’t hurt you.”

“Chernabog? You named it?” Swindle asked, gazing at the mass of tentacles.

Chernabog rumbled in amusement and caressed Swindle’s cheek.

“Aw, he likes you,” Lockdown laughed. “I think he wants to get to know you better.”

“W--Wait…what are you…” Swindle began, shivering when the bounty hunter gave him a lecherous grin. “No! No! No! No! It’s great that you enjoy the pet but I have no desire to be ‘faced by an organic…thing!”

Chernabog let out an agitated growl.

“Hey, be nice,” Lockdown chided. “You’re going to hurt his feelings. He’s a fantastic lover. Believe me…I know.”

Chernabog purred and used a tendril to rub Lockdown’s aft.

“You’ll find out soon enough that I’m telling the truth,” Lockdown murmured.

“Hold on--” Swindle started.

He was cut off by Lockdown’s mouth gently pressing to his mouth, gasping as the larger mech’s glossa traced along his lips. The startled gasp gave Lockdown a chance to slip his glossa into Swindle’s mouth, sensually massaging the arms dealer’s glossa. Swindle could taste energon, oil, and a sweet, salty tang of something foreign, something he wanted more of. Hesitation thrown aside, he kissed back, plunging his glossa into Lockdown’s mouth, eager to taste more that strange, sweet, salty flavor. His passion faded when several tentacles rubbed his inner thighs, tensing when the tendrils inched closer to his groin.

Lockdown nuzzled Swindle, stating, “How long have we known each other?”

“T--To long to keep count,” Swindle stammered.

“And have I done anything to threaten your life or cause you harm?” Lockdown inquired.

“N--No,” Swindle whimpered, quivering as a tentacle brushed over his groin.

“Then trust me…and him,” Lockdown cooed. “We’ll take care of you.”

The tendrils suddenly positioned him face down, aft high in the air, letting out a soft squeak when the paneling over his port was prodded. He squeaked again when Lockdown removed a portion of his armor around his groin, tendrils massaging the exposed area. Lockdown’s lips skimmed along his shoulders, glossa darting out to tease several seams, trailing down to his lower back but avoiding his aft.

“W--Why?’ Swindle stuttered, heating up from Lockdown’s and Chernabog’s gentle exploration of his body.

Lockdown chuckled against his armor. “I got sick of waiting for you to make a move, so I decided to speed things up.” He reached around to grope Swindle’s chassis, hook and fingers scraping over the arms dealer’s windshield. “Why do you think I contacted you so much and kept buying junk from you?”

Chernabog grumbled at the statement.

“I didn’t mean you,” Lockdown sighed, kissing a tendril.

Appeased, Chernabog resumed exploring Swindle’s body, making the arms dealer quiver from the ticklish sensation of the soft appendages.

“You…hmm…wanted me for that long?” Swindle moaned.

“Still want you,” Lockdown leered, “and so does he, but we’ll stop if--”

Lockdown became silent as Swindle’s paneling retracted, erect spike pushing free, port glistening with lubricant. Exited from the erotic sight, Chernabog tried to shove a tentacle into Swindle, but Lockdown immediately grabbed the tendril and drew it away.

“Easy, pet,” Lockdown chided. “Not every bot likes it rough like me. I think Swindle needs to be warmed up.” He cupped and squeezed Swindle’s aft. “How about I stretch you open with my glossa? Would you like that?”

“Y--Yes,” Swindle whimpered. “Please…Lockdown…ahh!”

Lockdown’s long, thick glossa entered him, swirling and pumping into his passage. His scream grew in pitch as a tendril expanded and engulfed his hard spike in tight, rippling heat.

“Oh Primus!” Swindle cried, thrusting his hips wildly, circuitry ablaze from every swipe of the slick appendage.

A tendril brushed over his lips, leaving a trail of sticky fluid that he licked away. The sweet, salty tang that he had first tasted in Lockdown’s mouth returned, and he wrapped his lips around the tip, sucking and moaning as more fluid dribbled out. Chernabog purred and trembled, thrusting the tentacle into Swindle’s mouth, picking up speed but being careful not to choke the arms dealer. Swindle let out a muffled, frustrated whine when Lockdown’s glossa slid out, leaving him empty and ready to burst from pent up desire.

“All right if I use my fingers?” Lockdown asked, swiping his glossa over the lining of Swindle’s port.

Swindle gave Lockdown a hasty nod, desperate to be filled again. Lockdown pressed one finger into Swindle slowly, moving the digit around before adding a second and then a third, looking up when Swindle exhaled sharply.

“Okay?” Lockdown asked.

The tendril in Swindle’s mouth pulled out, and he answered, “B--Been about a millennia since my last ‘facing. Stings a bit…but it’s passing. Keep going.”

Lockdown continued stretching Swindle open, fingers thrusting, scissoring and hooking inside the arms dealer, brushing over wires that made the smaller mech buck and whine. Mewling as the slight pain dissipated, Swindle latched back onto Chernabog’s tentacle, sucking as fast possible, shuddering as the tendril milking his spike matched his rhythm. He screamed around the wriggling mass when Lockdown’s glossa skimmed over the lining of his stretched port, overloading hard, milking tendril sucking down his spilling essence. The tendril in his mouth expanded and then spurted in release, excess fluid trickling past his lips. If not for the tendrils holding up him, he would have collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.

“Slag…how long has it been since your last overload?” Lockdown asked, easing his fingers out.

“A--About a millennia,” Swindle groaned. “Didn’t I just tell you that?”

“Primus…I could never go that long,” Lockdown laughed. “Been too busy to take care of yourself?”

“As a matter of fact…yes,” Swindle grumbled.

“Well, it’s a good thing you have us to help you out,” Lockdown murmured, kissing his way up Swindle’s back, stopping when he reached the arms dealer’s neck. “Ready to find out just how good an organic can ‘face you?”

“Yeah,” Swindle replied.

Chernabog hummed in excitement, extending a tentacle, rubbing the leaking tip over Swindle’s opening, waiting for the arms dealer to relax before gradually working inside. The filling sensation made Swindle gasp and clench his fingers. Despite being hard with arousal, the tentacle felt so soft against his internals, and he slammed his aft back, trying to get the tendril to go deeper. Purring from the intense feeling of silky, wet, heat, Chernabog picked up on Swindle’s desire, driving his tentacle deeper and vibrating the appendage, making the arms dealer wail and thrash.

“Told you he was good,” Lockdown snickered.

Tilting his helm, Swindle snapped, “Oh, shut up and kiss me!”

“Happy to oblige,” Lockdown chuckled.

Lips meeting in a passionate kiss, Swindle and Lockdown embraced one another, both groaning as their spikes met and rubbed together in a teasing, yet delicious friction. The mass of tentacles around them kept them locked together, lovingly caressing every inch of their frames. Lockdown bucked and mewled into the kiss as three tentacles slammed into his aft, pace fast and unrelenting, just how he liked it. Swindle and Lockdown continued to kiss and nuzzle one another as they were slammed into, bodies bumping together from each rough thrust, spikes gliding together.

“How…ahh…many have you been…ngh…able take?” Swindle moaned.

“T--Twenty-three,” Lockdown gritted out, letting out a sharp cry as five more tendrils jammed into him.

“That’s it?” Swindle laughed. “Bet I can beat that and not overload before you. Winner gets to frag the loser.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Lockdown huffed. “Get ready to lose, little dealer.” He grabbed two more tentacles, pressing the appendages to his aft. “C’mon…oohh…give me more!”

Swindle scowled and also grabbed four tendrils, agitated that Lockdown had a lead on him. “Please…ahh…more! Give me more…ngh…not him!”

Chernabog shuddered in lust. He had to hot bots begging to be filled with his tendrils. It took all of his dwindling willpower to keep every one of his seven hundred tendrils from bursting in release. Even in his haze of lust, he was careful with both bots, especially Swindle, when adding more tentacles. Swindle whined through clenched dentals as he was spread open, port throbbing from the intrusion. The pain soon vanished, replaced with pleasure, crying out in bliss when a sixth tendril eased into him.

“Sure you’re up to this?” Lockdown moaned, nibbling on several of Swindle’s neck cables.

“Y--Yes…oh…feels amazing,” Swindle moaned. “More…more…please!”

With a wicked grin, Lockdown grasped two tendrils and pressed the appendages to Swindle’s aft, causing the arms dealer to wail as the tendrils slipped in, clutching at the older mech as even more tentacles worked inside him. Lockdown shouted as the tentacles within him shoved deeper, joined by ten others. Hook clutching the back of Swindle’s helm, Lockdown pulled the arms dealer until their lips met in a rough, frenzied kiss, glossas twining, hips grinding together. Chernabog growled in lust as he watched the two bots kiss, thrusting his tendrils harder and faster. Soon, Swindle and Lockdown had twenty-three tentacles buried in their afts, each panting hard, armor shimmering with condensation. Five more tendrils rubbed over their afts, waiting for permission to enter.

“Sure you’re…ngh…really up for this?” Lockdown moaned, biting into his bottom lip as the tendrils within him vibrated.

“Yeah…slag it…more!” Swindle yelled.

The five probing tendrils suddenly squeezed into Swindle, expanding his port even wider, causing his entire frame to lock up, CPU crashing into darkness from a violent overload. When he woke, he was nestled in Lockdown’s arms with Chernabog cooing and caressing his backside. His port was still pleasantly throbbing despite the absence of Chernabog’s tentacles.

“Hmm…you lost,” Lockdown stated, giving Swindle a gentle kiss, “but I’ll collect my prize some other time.”

“You can collect it now,” Swindle murmured, shifting to straddle Lockdown’s waist, nearly toppling over from his wobbly legs.

Chernabog caught him and helped position him on Lockdown’s groin, tendril wrapping around the bounty hunter’s renewed arousal, guiding the spike to his port. Swindle cried out in pleasure when Lockdown connected with him, other tendrils pushing on his back and helm until his lips pushed against the bounty hunter’s mouth. They hungrily kissed and moaned as Chernabog used his tentacles to lift Swindle up and down, repeatedly impaling the arms dealer on the bounty hunter’s rigid spike.

“Oooh…Lockdown…harder!” Swindle cried.

Eager to please, Lockdown rammed his hips upwards, driving himself deeper into Swindle, thrusts becoming erratic when five tentacles shoved into his port. “Ungh! Ah! Frag! Frag! Frag!”

“Oh Primus! I’m close! I’m close! Ahh!” Swindle wailed, vocalizer crackling as two tendrils entered alongside Lockdown’s spike.

Swindle and Lockdown reached their peak together, screaming and cursing from the searing pleasure that coursed through their frames. Chernabog let out husky mewl as he climaxed, tendrils spurting fluid inside and all over the Swindle’s and Lockdown’s bodies.

“Oh…oh…frag…I’m going to be so sore,” Swindle whimpered, wincing as Lockdown’s spike and Chernabog’s tendrils slipped out, “but it was so worth it. I’d…really like to…play with you two again…but not any time soon. My poor aft needs a break.”

Lockdown chuckled and nuzzled the smaller mech. “What do you say, Chernabog? Should we keep him around?”

Chernabog purred and cuddled Swindle with his wriggling tentacles.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Swindle snickered. “So sticky. I need a shower…but…ah…my legs aren’t working at the moment.”

“No problem,” Lockdown stated, standing up, a little wobbly, heading for the door. “C’mon, Chernabog.”

Carefully cradling Swindle, Chernabog slid across the floor, following after Lockdown, contorting through the open door.

End
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