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Prisoner of Desire	By : bigbadvillian Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 3855 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers Animated or any faction of HasTak, and make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Prisoner of Desire
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Chapter Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Chapter Elelven
- 12-Chapter Twelve
- 3
- 4
- 5
Four
“That was Lockdown just now,” Optimus said to Bumblebee, who came out of hiding, “He’s taken Prowl. He won’t—he won’t return him. I have to call Magnus and tell him.” Bumblebee was silent, and merely nodded his approval. This was the worst news they could hear. If Prowl had been kidnapped by the Decepticons, it wouldn’t be as worrisome, because those idiots whoed their ugly mugs constantly. But Lockdown was far more elusive, much harder to find. He was very good at what he did, and hiding was just another one of his strong points.
It was quite a situation, Optimus thought grimly as he accessed Magnus’ frequency. The screen flickered to life for a moment, then static took over as the dominant image. Optimus waited patiently for Magnus to see his call, but when the call was answered, it was not Ultra Magnus standing there, but Autobot Jazz.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asked a little desperately, “Have ya found ‘im yet? Please Primus, tell me you found ‘im!” Optimus sighed and shook his head, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news.
“Jazz, I’m sorry. But I’m afraid Lockdown has kidnapped Prowl. We’ll do all we can to find him, but I need to speak with your commander. Can you please—” Jazz was gone in a heartbeat to grab his leader. Optimus rubbed his optics wearily; he hadn’t wanted to say it, because saying it made it so real. Bumblebee gave Prime a pat on the arm, just to tell him that it would be okay, they would get their teammate back. But Prime wasn’t so sure. Lockdown was, unfortunately, a damn good bounty hunter, and a formidable enemy.
They waited a few moments, then heard some scuffling in the background. Jazz’s shadow was dancing against the wall, trying to pull the shadow of another larger figure toward the screen. It seemed Ultra Magnus had enough to worry about without worrying about his soldier’s lover.
“Commander,” Jazz suddenly growled, “Prowl is an Autobot, and I thought we look after our Autobots. I will resign from this team if you don’t listen to what Optimus Prime has to say. It’s urgent.” Magnus’s main control room was quiet for a moment, as though every unseen worker there was staring in disbelief at Jazz. There was a heavy sigh, and then Magnus walked in front of the screen.
“Optimus Prime,” he said, “What seems to be the problem?” Optimus saluted the commander and answered,
“It’s about Prowl, sir. I’ve just received a call from the bounty hunter Lockdown. He told me he’s taken Prowl.”
“And why would he make himself such an easy target?”
“I—I’m not sure, sir. It might be a trap to lure us in. He does a lot of work for Megatron, sir. It could be that he’s using Prowl as bait to lead us in.”
“Hmmm…good. You may be correct, Optimus. Send me the frequency, I wish to have a talk with this Lockdown myself. We’re on it. How is the rest of your crew doing with the loss?”
“They’re having some difficulty with it, sir. Our organic friend Sari is taking it the hardest. She really loves Prowl—I think she sees him a second father. I mean, like an adopted creator.”
“Hmm.” Magnus contemplated what Optimus meant before adding,
“Take care of your men, Optimus. You’re doing a good job so far. I’m off to discuss matters with this Lockdown. Do not make any moves until I call you back.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Optimus, saluting the commander once more, “I won’t.” Magnus saluted Optimus as well, and then signed off. He had business to take care of.
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Lockdown was in the middle of biting Prowl’s shoulders when his presence was requested.
“Aw, damn it,” he grumbled, “who is this? Don’t move, gorgeous. Master has to take a call.” He laughed and walked off, leaving a slightly battered Prowl hanging limply from his bonds. Prowl tried to keep himself from making too much noise as he once again attempted to break free—Lockdown was going to take advantage of him, and he refused to make it easy for the bounty hunter.
He stopped suddenly when he heard a familiar voice on the other end of the transmission—Ultra Magnus! They were looking for him! Jazz was looking for him! He felt something in his spark light up—Jazz’s protective love was trying to reach out for him, reassuring him that he was going to be rescued. Prowl returned the love; their sparks were one with each other. He felt, for a moment, all his desperation and fear exiting his body and being replaced with warmth and soft, silent whispers of love. It was a glorious feeling—it was like being swept off his feet again by Jazz, sweet, protective, beautiful Jazz.
But it was over quickly. The bond they shared suddenly grew cold and angry, and Prowl knew something was wrong. Lockdown must have said something awful, anything to infuriate Jazz, because he was seething now. Prowl groaned as quietly as he could as the dull pain filled his chest. Lockdown’s conversation was barely audible, but it wasn’t anything good.
After what felt like an hour, Lockdown returned to his new toy. He made a condescending sound in his throat, much like a cough, as he set his optics on Prowl’s limp form. He slowly slid his hook under Prowl’s chin and forced him to look up.
“That was your prince and his commander,” he said softly, smiling slightly. “They want to rescue you, little princess. But I’m afraid that’s impossible. If they want you, they’ll need quite a plan. I have lots of traps on my ship. I didn’t kidnap you unprepared. The Autobots will curse the day they come here willingly to find you.”
Prowl made no sound. He didn’t need to—Jazz was determined to rescue him, and Prowl himself was determined to escape. Lockdown stared into Prowl’s red optics, then said,
“What if I told them you were created as a Decepticon, that you have those lovely red optics? Would they suddenly reject you? It would help you change your mind, you know. Become a Neutral, be free! You’d love it.” Prowl continued to glare angrily at his captor, refusing to make a sound. Lockdown shook his head and said,
“I can see you’re trying to give me the silent treatment. I have ways of making you talk. Well, to make you make any sound I want you to, really.”
He kneeled down and brought his face level with Prowl’s thighs. The ninja knew what was about to happen, but he made no sound. He did his best to clamp his legs shut, despite the chains holding them slightly apart. Lockdown laughed that deep, throaty laugh, then said,
“Oh, please. Stop struggling, you’ll like this.” His hand and hook roughly took hold of Prowl’s legs and pushed them apart with ease. The bonds seemed to move with Lockdown’s silent command; Prowl couldn’t hold back a shudder. He didn’t want this, not with Lockdown. He didn’t love the fragger, he loathed him! This couldn’t happen, no way, no how, n—
“Ah!” Prowl cried out as Lockdown’s glossa teasingly licked Prowl’s inner thigh. His hand slowly massaged the ninja’s hip, applying just enough pressure to make Prowl gasp. He licked the thigh again, this time a little harder, a little longer. Prowl cried out again, angry at himself for giving Lockdown a reaction. He hated this, but his body warmed up to it.
“No,” Prowl pleaded, “Not you…not you…only Jazz is allowed to—Ah! Stop!”
“Not a chance, princess,” chuckled Lockdown, “I’m clearly going to enjoy this more than you are.” And with that, he clamped his lips down on Prowl’s port, licking and sucking at it hotly. Prowl yelled out, trying to struggle away from the bounty hunter’s hungry mouth.
“NO! Lockdown, STOP!” Prowl screamed, feeling his body starting to head for unwanted climax. He could actually feel Lockdown’s lips curl into a sick smile around his hot port as he continued to lick and nip at it. His fingers played with Prowl’s thighs, rubbing them up and down and squeezing them tightly under Prowl’s thrashing body.
Prowl was getting closer…he couldn’t take it like this, his body was too sensitive. He didn’t want to give in. He fought the sensations in his heated port in vain. It screamed for release, begging its owner to just let go and enjoy this attention. But Prowl refused like the stubborn mech he was; he didn’t care that he was making it harder for himself.
Lockdown didn’t seem to mind. He wanted Prowl to prolong his inevitable climax—it was torture for the ninja. Lockdown loved the reactions he was getting out of Prowl, and he wanted to see more. He lifted himself up enough to clamp his jaws on Prowl’s waist and midriff. He continued to lick and bite, and began to kiss his prey; Prowl writhed and shuddered with each touch; he tried hard to hold in his moans and sobs, but he was losing control of himself. His body ached for release so bad that it hurt. It was the most horrific thing he’d ever felt.
Love making with Jazz was never this traumatizing—Jazz was gentle, playful and slow. He knew Prowl’s body well, and took good, loving care of it. Each lick from Lockdown’s rough glossa only made Prowl’s spark cry out for Jazz more and more, begging for him to come find him and take him away from this devil.
Prowl finally screamed when Lockdown’s jaws sunk into his thigh, leaving an ugly perforated mark that wrapped around to Prowl’s lower back. Hot oil dripped down Prowl’s leg. The wound itself stung sharply, but Lockdown clearly did not think medical aid was necessary. He chuckled darkly and leaned back in to lick the hot oil off Prowl’s knee. The ninja had never been so humiliated in his life.
Lockdown continued to lick the oil dripping from the wound he’d inflicted on the terrified ‘bot, occasionally biting more gently and kissing and sucking on his port. But after a very short while, he decided he was bored and wanted something new. He got to his feet and looked Prowl in the optic with a sick smile.
“Hey gorgeous,” he said in that deep, deep voice of his, “how ya feelin’? You like this game?”
Prowl did his best to look away so Lockdown wouldn’t see the full impact of his cruelty in his optics, but Lockdown knew better. He reached up and roughly grabbed Prowl’s chin and turned his head back to facer him.
|”Look at me, princess. There you go. Tell me, does Jazz ever kiss you?” Prowl didn’t answer. Lockdown sighed sarcastically, then shook Prowl violently and repeated himself. Prowl yelled out,
“Yes, yes he kisses me! Stop shaking me!” Lockdown laughed and asked,
“Is he all sweet and gentle and all that slag? Is he the perfect boyfriend?”
“I…yes, he is.” Prowl said boldly, this time making optic contact with his violator, “He is the best mech in the universe. I love him.” Lockdown made an ‘oh, really?’ face at Prowl, then said,
“Well, I hope he doesn’t mind what I’m about to do to you.”
“NO NO NO NO!” Prowl yelled angrily, trying again to kick the bounty hunter down, but it was like Lockdown was made of pure indestructible. He could not be harmed in any way. He moved dangerously close to Prowl, staring his toy in the face, then pressed his lips against Prowl’s. The ninja tried to protest, but Lockdown only grinned wickedly into his mouth and stuck his glossa in at the same time. Prowl refused to let it tease his own glossa, and did he best to fight back.
Lockdown’s hand snaked down his chest, his midriff, his thigh and slid up a little way back to the hot, exposed port. Prowl tried to clamp his legs shut again, but Lockdown pushed them apart easily with his own leg. He rubbed Prowl’s port, alternating gentle and rough touches and enjoying watching Prowl squirm. Then, when Prowl though he could take no more and would simply faint, Lockdown thrust two fingers into the burning port. They barely fit into the small space, but he managed.
Prowl had never shrieked so loudly in his function. He could no longer contain himself—he began to cry, sob, moan and beg simultaneously. Lockdown continued to kiss him, loving this new reaction he was getting. Prowl began to want it, kissing Lockdown back in a fit of need. He wanted the damn bounty hunter to enter him to make the throbbing in his port go away. He managed to pull his face away from Lockdown’s and gasped,
“Take me, damn it! Take me NOW! I c—I can’t—AH!...do this! Please…just! AAAAaaah! Oh holy Primus, please!” Lockdown’s smile grew larger as he pulled prowl off the wall, but keeping his wrists chained, and carried him to a berth, where he lay the beautiful ninja down on his back. Prowl gasped and panted as he waited for the bounty hunter to take him. Lockdown kneeled down at his legs and ate Prowl’s port one more time, just to hear Prowl scream for release once more, then got back to his feet. He climbed on top of Prowl, leaning forward to bit his neck. He gently placed his plug into Prowl’s port and began to thrust, getting rougher and rougher as he went on.
“Faster…” Prowl gasped, “Please, Lockdown, faster!” Lockdown’s hips thrust faster and harder, and he too began to moan and gasp as pleasure swept though him. Prowl’s hips jerked up, making them both cry out as a rush of pleasure ran though their bodies.
Harder…faster…harder…faster….
They both shrieked as their overloads began to sweep over them. Prowl came first, and he came screaming and crying. Lockdown came seconds after, screaming as well, and letting a string of swears exit his mouth as well. He pulled himself out of the sensitive ninja’s port and passed out, falling to the floor with a loud ‘thunk!’ Prowl finally went out like a light, panting and energon leaking from his optics.
Prowl rebooted before Lockdown did, and he stared at the ceiling for a moment, trying to remember where he was and why he was chained up. He felt a slight throbbing in his thigh, and craned his neck to see the perforated mark, encrusted with oil. He tried to figure it out, then heard something like a snore on the floor. Craning his neck over again to peer at the floor, he gasped as he laid his optics on Lockdown’s off-line form, curled slightly into a ball of evil.
It hit him then, the violation he’d endured, his tears, the penetration, the bite…how he had begged for it. Prowl’s optics flew to the ceiling as he did his best to keep his tears from retuning, a trick he’d learned from Sari. He was ashamed of himself for giving in so easily, for allowing Lockdown to hurt him this way without even fighting back. It made him feel weak and worthless.
Prowl lay there for several hours, crying quietly to himself for fear of waking his captor up and possibly being forced into this again. It was too much for him. Never before in his life had Prowl wanted to see Jazz so badly.
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Prisoner of Desire