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You Never ARGH WHAT AM I WEARING?!	By : Breech_Loader Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Slash - M/M Views: 2164 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-You Never ARGH WHAT AM I WEARING?!
- 1
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You Never ARGH WHAT AM I WEARING?!

Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic

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Me: I’d just like to say that this is my first attempt at a Crackfic. I’m not expecting you to let me off for a bad fanfic (if it is a bad fic) but I do want you to laugh a bit. If you don’t like slash, Transformers Animated, or PWP, leave now. By reading this fanfic, you will also learn what I think about, all the freaking time.

Me: In case you hadn’t guessed, it’s sex.

Me: Just for your information, the fetish of talking to (or being talked to) dirty is Narratophilia, the fetish of causing pain is Sadism, and the fetish of a male wearing ladies’ underwear (or vice versa) is Transvesticism. You’d never have gotten that last one if I hadn’t managed to find it on a site with a list of fetishes.

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Chapter One: Cha Cha Cha!

Blitzwing stretched, cracking a selection of joints. This personality had been stable for six hours, and he was making the most of it because you never know when somebody else might get back in charge. He didn’t really have any control – the crazy one might have a whole week in charge, and then he’d go back to switching personalities like other people switch shoes.

Perhaps the worst part about being crazy was not the three personalities - commonly known as Colonel Klink, Arnie and That Crazy Nutjob - but the three fetishes that they embodied. One got aroused from talking dirty, insulting his lover and being insulted in return. One very much enjoyed the power that came with striking his lover; it didn’t matter who was dominant, all that mattered was that they kept hitting out at each other. And the third... well, the third liked dressing up.

Which was why he was standing in Starscream’s room on the Nemesis, wearing painted-on fishnet stockings, a metal thong, and hammered-on high heels. More than once, he had switched personalities in the middle of a fuck. It was the equivalent of a dozen liquid nitrogen showers.

Not that they always stopped, even then.

Starscream stalked into the room, looking at Blitzwing with a smirk. While this particular fetish was definitely entertaining, it wasn’t what turned him on. He enjoyed fucking all three of Blitzwing’s personalities, with no particular favourite. Admittedly he had a different reason for fucking each of them, but that didn’t make Blitzwing any less skilled with his hands.

What he liked specifically about this personality, was that this Blitzwing liked to take the submissive role. It gave Starscream the power and respect he could not get from other Decepticons, many of them too insistent that Megatron still existed somewhere.

“My word Blitzwing, but you look pretty today,” Starscream taunted him, his optics roving over the Triple-Changer’s shamefully clad form, before he closed and locked the door behind him, “One of these days, I’m going to tell the entire crew about the games you like to play, and they can join in.”

“If you ever did that, you know we wouldn’t be able to ‘play’ again,” Blitzwing returned the smirk, “You enjoy our games too much for that. You wouldn’t do something so crazy,” the smirk became increasingly more sinful, “But I might.”

“You wouldn’t dream of it,” Starscream stepped forward, reaching out and running the tip of a claw-like finger down Blitzwing’s body, lingering over the metal of the thong, before his hand ran over the fishnet stockings, “You may be crazy... but you’re not stupid.”

He still remembered the first time they had done this, 12,000 years ago. He had burst into Blitzwing’s room uninvited, confident in the knowledge that he was in command on this ship – and had been frozen in place by his bewilderment. Blitzwing had been standing in front of a full length mirror, rubbing at his crotch, his regulation armour piled up in a corner, and his robot form clad only in painted-on fishnet stockings and high heels, a metal thong lying discarded at his feet.

Blitzwing had spun around to face him, an expression of humiliation on his face, with his cables erect. Almost a whole minute had passed, before Starscream had found the voice to ask the Triple-Changer just what the frag he was doing.

The Seeker had been even more surprised to learn from a mortified Blitzwing, that he was the one the Triple-Changer was thinking about. Of course he’d taken advantage of the situation to get in a fuck or two, but as time had passed, he’d found himself doing it less because he had the opportunity, and more because Blitzwing was a damn good fuck.

“You’re right on that point,” Blitzwing replied, shudders of pleasure leaving his body as Starscream’s hands brushed against the proof of his most humiliating fetish. He took a couple of steps backward, walking rather skilfully on towering heels that made him almost a foot taller than usual, and capable of looking the normally taller Starscream in his optics. He had become adept at using them since his fetish had struck almost 70,000 years ago.

He was always arguing with himself, over the way he should behave, the music he liked, which fetish he wanted to be dominant, all the way down to how he was going to kill somebody, but there was one thing he all agreed on. Starscream was incredibly sexy.

They played these games whenever they got the chance. The other personalities played it a different way, but this one was his favourite – at least this personality claimed this one was his favourite. The way he could not only dress like a femme, and be fucked like a femme, but also take the submissive role a femme should take, was so fucking arousing that it made him want to scream in pleasure.

Starscream reached down to the other Decepticon with a smirk, and grabbed a handful of sensitive metal, starting to ease his hands under the armour, “I own you,” he hissed, “I own you, and you know it...”

“Yes... oh yes...” Blitzwing moaned, and reached for Starscream hungrily.

Before he could lay his hands on the mech, his hands were slapped away sharply. The Seeker grasped him tighter, and dragged him closer, capturing his lips in a forceful kiss, “That’s... yes... master...” Starscream growled at him as their tongues rubbed together.

“Mmm... yes... lower... Master...” Blitzwing moaned, parting his lips. He could feel Starscream stripping him of his armour. The more powerful mech ran his tongue over the metal of his neck, and he moaned once more in pleasure.

By now, the circuits on Blitzwing’s shoulders were almost entirely bared, and the Seeker was reaching for the metal on his torso. The Triple-Changer reached for his mate’s armour once more. This time his hands were not slapped away, and fumbling with the catches, he listened to the armour clattering to the floor as he licked at Starscream’s neck.

“Now, Blitzwing... you go lower...” Starscream ordered him, groping at his hips with one hand as he removed more armour, piece by piece.

Blitzwing was only too happy to obey, sinking to his knees. This was all part of the game – he was submissive, and Starscream took control, and that was the way it should be. He licked at the plating a few times, before unlatching it and starting on the cables underneath.

Starscream groaned and put his hand on the back of Blitzwing’s helm, pushing his face further forward against his crotch, his cables hardening. Blitzwing grabbed hold of the Seeker's thighs to balance himself, and started squeezing, eliciting more moans from his mate.

“Starscream...” Blitzwing moaned between licks.

“I didn’t say... you were allowed to stop licking... at any point,” Starscream informed him, his high voice shaking slightly with arousal as he removed the armour on his mate’s shoulders, “Blitz... wing...” he moaned out, his grip on the mech beneath him tightening and his head tilting back.

Blitzwing obediently became silent except for more low moans, his tongue continuing to move over Starscream’s crotch, his fingers prying at the Seeker’s thighs, all with the aim of arousing him to the point that he would fuck the Triple-Changer good and hard.

Several minutes passed with Blitzwing’s mouth moving over the circuits and cables in Starscream’s bare crotch, licking at them hard as he knelt there and chewing on certain cables lightly. He was rubbing up against the heat of it all and listening to Starscream’s high-pitched moans. Eventually he was hauled back up to his high heels. Starscream kissed him hard as he clutched at the Seeker hungrily, before reaching for the metal of his thong.

“Oh... Nnngh... Starscream...” Blitzwing moaned out, his lips moving against those of his mate even as he spoke. He desired this far too much to break the kiss. His hips were bucking repeatedly against those of Starscream as his passion mounted. If somebody had come into the room right now, he would have let them watch, and continued the fuck with Starscream regardless.

Locked in a fierce embrace and a violent kiss, the two of them staggered backwards, with Blitzwing’s back colliding against the wall. This was no longer a game. This was a violent, destructive sexual craving and they both knew it and neither one cared.

Clawing at Starscream passionately, by now Blitzwing’s lips were effectively fighting with those of Starscream. The Seeker, taking control once again, bit down on his lower lip sharply, and he gave a brief scream of delight. Starscream’s hands moved under Blitzwing’s aft, and he clutched at the Triple-Changer hard, digging his claws into the sensitive circuits laid bare by his ministrations.

In response, Blitzwing cried out yet again in a combination of pleasure and pain, his hips bucking forward continuously. Starscream’s dominance over him at this moment was so erotic that he grabbed the mech’s wings and started pulling at them.

Almost as a reward for the scream and the groping, Starscream lifted the purple and grey mech up and balanced him on his hips. Blitzwing wrapped his arms around the Seeker’s shoulders, wrapping his thighs around his mate’s waist and crossing his ankles, holding on tightly as he was pressed harder against the wall. They kissed again, and somehow it was even more violent, more frantic and more desperate than before.

Then Starscream thrust his hips forward into his mate’s damp rear port, hard.

Blitzwing threw his head back and screamed again at the heat now violently invading his rear port. Oh yes, it hurt. But Starscream’s dominance now felt so... so... so good, that he was already thrusting his own aft forward to get it deeper, harder, hotter inside him.

“Blitzwing!” Starscream thrust into him persistently. They continued to kiss and lick and bite each other. By this point, Blitzwing was so submissive to Starscream that he could have knocked the Triple-Changer down onto his metal bunk, slapped a pair of stasis cuffs on him and fucked him until he bled Energon out the aft, and he wouldn’t even protest. He’d done it before.

“Nngh! Yes! Keep on!” Blitzwing pleaded, holding onto Starscream tighter. He was rising ever closer to overload, yet he didn’t want it to come because that would mean it would come to an end. So he just made the most of what he was getting right now, and screamed out again, “Harder! Faster!”

Starscream would probably have increased the power and speed of his thrusts no matter what Blitzwing had begged for, and they both knew it. Fortunately, neither one cared. Still balancing Blitzwing on his hips, Starscream carried him over to the metal bunk and pushed him down.

His weight was not only reassuring but also arousing for Blitzwing, and he uncrossed his ankles to hook his knees over Starscream’s shoulders instead, screaming in pleasure with every deep thrust.

Getting really close now... kneeling on the bunk, Starscream didn’t want to stop driving his way in. Who cared that this wasn’t love? Who cared that Blitzwing was insane? As the mech’s hands moved over him – one caressing his left wing, the other moving over his cockpit – he gave a shriek of pleasure, and groped frantically at Blitzwing’s thighs.

“Uh! Oh, yes! That!” Blitzwing cried out, pleasured further as Starscream reminded him of his shame. He bit down on the circuits in Starscream’s right wing, an action which prompted a shriek of pleasure from the Seeker.

Starscream’s hands left the stockings and heels, and moved to Blitzwing’s wings. He started by rubbing hard, before his touches became gradually lighter and lighter, leaving Blitzwing twisting and squirming in pleasure, “Don’t... you dare... stop now...” he gasped out as the purple and grey mech bit him again.

“Never!” Blitzwing struggled to speak. For his obedience, Starscream started rubbing, then stroking his missile launchers, and he screamed as two of his major erogenous zones were molested at once. His fingers dug harder into his mate’s other wing with a deeply arousing constancy, while the other ceased to merely rub against his cockpit, and started stroking with a light touch that was more like a breath of wind.

This was why they did this. This was why Blitzwing was so good. The body of a Triple-Changer. The mind of a gestalt. Well, a crazy gestalt at any rate. Starscream had fucked other mechs, but none of them were even a third as good at harmonizing the movements of their body against his. Blitzwing's thrusts and touches could be perfectly synchronised, or deliberately randomised to give a few delightful surprises.

As for Blitzwing, it had nothing to do with desiring Starscream’s personality. Normally other mechs wouldn’t touch Blitzwing, put off either by his insanity, or the three personalities that switched around randomly, or all too often they would only be interested in one face, or have a favourite. Starscream didn’t have a favourite. He enjoyed all three of Blitzwing’s personalities equally, and would be quite happy to show off his ability to fuck all three in one night. So what if it wasn’t love? It felt good, just the same.

“Don’t stop...” Blitzwing gasped out, “You... uh! You never know when... Ah! You never know... I never know... We never know- AW SHIT WHAT THE FUCKING HELL AM I WEARING THIS TIME?!”

Starscream ceased thrusting reluctantly, slowing to a gradual halt, and looked down at his mate, who had switched from the Colonel Klink personality, to his Crazy Nutjob personality, and was looking down at the fishnet stockings, high heels and discarded thong. After a few seconds, he looked up again and shrugged.

Starscream started thrusting his hips forward once again.

Blitzwing ignored the fishnet stockings and heels he was wearing, and started insulting Starscream eagerly.

~~~

Me: Shit yes, it was COLD Blitzwing who was wearing those fishnet stockings and heels. Mental image time, people. Mental image time.

Oh, and I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with cross-dressing, or that the one who dresses as the woman is always submissive, or that people who do it for sexual purposes are always violent and don’t love each other but are doing it for the sex. But these are Decepticons.
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You Never ARGH WHAT AM I WEARING?!