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Barricade groaned into his pillow. His head was pounding and his already empty tanks ached awfully. But he didn't dare to drink anything yet. His first try, half an hour ago, had gone straight into his trash bin. After he had awoken in his bed and felt like he'd been hit by a shuttle, he had tried to piece his last night together again. It had taken him a few tries, but slowly things started to make sense again.

He had partied in a club he heard about at work. After a while a tall mech had taken him to Jazz. Jazz, the club’s keeper, who had coaxed him to spread his legs for him. Jazz who had persuaded him to 'face with his pretty waiter... Jazz who had wanted to try his port as well. He’d even gotten Barricade to nearly agree, but another mech had shown up and the Polyhexian had excused himself. After a while the mech who had gathered him from the dancefloor had told him that his boss had work to do and that a transport had been called for the enforcer. That's how he'd gotten home and into his bed.

After remembering Barricade had frowned. Sure... He had gotten fancy highgrade, but he has been drunken before and never done anything like that. Realization had hit him then and he'd plugged a multi-use drug test into his systems. It came out positive for nuke but the numbers were barely noticeable. Such a small amount couldn't really have an effect on a mech his size and weight. He had run various calculations.

So there had to be something else? Or his test was faulty, the device recently updated but not the newest model at all. Or maybe the stuff was something new enough not to show on testing devices in general, he knew that there always where things they could not find on the marked. It was irritating. But soon after he started to move a little more his tank’s contents had forced his attention to his waste bin for the first time. That was one hour ago. And he was still sick. And he stayed that way for half the day. Barricade thanked Primus that his next shift was only tomorrow night.

When he finally got out of bed and into his washracks he offlined his optics and leaned tiredly against the cool tiles. Jazz had drugged him and used him. The enforcer touched his still closed panel, behind it he still felt the distinct soreness after a semi-rough interface. He also realized that the mechs transfluid, or at least traces of it, was still inside his valve. He wanted to wash it away so badly, but he knew that he couldn't. That it, combined with the drugs in his system, were the only evidence of what Jazz had done to him.

He should get out of the shower, and walk to his or any other police department to file charges and get swapped. He didn't. It struck his pride that he'd been played so easy. Used like any other stupid newframe. He was better than that, smarter. He decided that he would file a report first thing tomorrow, when his shift started. Nuke took several days to be out of a mech a system anyways and he could go to a pharmacy and get a free rape kit for the transfluid sample on his way to the club. To Jazz. He wanted that the mech was punished for sullying him but first he would rub it in. Show the mech that he wasn't one to be underestimated. Exploited.

After finally keeping a cube in and steading his systems he was on his way. By now it was early evening. He checked the datanet, the club was open. Good. It took him another hour to arrive. The music was loud enough that he could hear it from the sidewalk. It was a well-known beat, he liked it but didn't care for it right now, just walked past the dancing mechs up to the private area of the club, just to be stopped by the big mech who had gathered him yesterday. Barricade was about to say something as the mech twitched and looked sideways, before stepping aside. The young enforcer knew that it was Jazz' doing. And there he was, sitting on the plush lounge seat just like yesterday, smiling up to him.

Barricade fumed. It took all his self-control to not walk over and slap Jazz across the face. "You drugged me" he stated servos clenched to fists. "You drugged me and used me and-" Jazz chuckled and waved a servo dismissively. "I had Bumblebee mix some n8fly into your drink. You should know it at least by name. It doesn't really count as rapedrug, just gets a mech to relax a little. The highgrade you willingly consumed helped too..." Barricade growled. "I tested positive for nuke and that does count... it's strong enough to overrule a mechs ability to give consent. I'll press charges, I’m only here to give you a heads up before-" "No" Barricade flinched surprised at the calmly spoken deflection cut his sentence. Before he could argue with the Polyhexian the mech continued with an unnatural calmness. "See the amount of nuke in your drink was hardly enough to have an effect on a Minibot, so stop your whining. You had fun. But you know what? If you insist on pressing charges I won't stop ya. Go ahead. Just give this a consideration:

You came here, I liked ya and we had some drinks together. Fragged. I had some work to do afterwards. When I came back I caught you with the nuke. Reason why there is just a trace in your system is because I stopped you before you had the chance to take more... And I even have two optic-witnesses to back it up. I took the nuke, flushed it down the drain and called ya a transport. And then you came here today and tried to threaten me, used your job as leverage…"

Barricade let the mech's words sink in. He felt freezing cold. As if all energon had just been drained from his frame. Three against one. He had absolutely no chance. Not how Jazz played the evidence out. His processor worked overtime, tried to make up any way to turn the tables but there was none. He had drugs in his system and no way to prove that he didn't take them intentionally. His tank felt as if it was in a tight knot. He was going to lose everything. Sure such a small offence won’t get him jailed but he'd lose his job, his flat... And he still had a student loan from the academy to pay back. And that after he worked so hard to pass all the tests...

" can't do that!" He demanded. Stepping closer to Jazz. Behind him he heard the tall mech move, felt the movement with his quivering doorwings. Jazz made a dismissive servo gesture and Barricade could tell that the other was backing away again. "I can, sweetspark. Especially if you are the one who came to my club to threaten me in front of my staff" Barricade felt his spark sink. Nonono. This couldn't be it.

"But then, just because I would be right to do so, doesn't mean I want to. I like ya and that sweet frame of yours. So why don't you come here and make me reconsider?" Jazz now leaned back onto the seat and patted his lap, smiling up to the Praxian. Barricade just stood there for a few seconds venting in and out slowly before he did what he was asked and straddled Jazz lap, optics down, doorwings tense. "Don't be like this" Barricade's chin was grabbed and his head lifted, forced to look Jazz into the visor.

"Now, now. This didn't start of right, did it? See I don't wish anything bad upon you. And I won't report ya, as long as we agree upon yesterday having been something we all enjoyed. Or didn't you like how I made you overload, how 'Bee rode your spike. You did look pretty happy about it for sure" Barricade's face burned with shame as he remembered everything the club's keeper mentioned. But the fact Jazz mentioned that he won't report him, won't destroy his short career eased his spark a little, he didn't even flinch away as the servo was removed from his chin and both of Jazz servos stared to run up and down his sides. He looked at the Polyhexian more closely. The mech was attractive, the chances he would have interfaced with him, even without the n8fly weren't that slim. And after a short datanet search he now knew, that the drug really wasn't that dangerous when it wasn't laced with cheaper substitutes.

So maybe he did overreact? Let his bad mood caused by the nausea and vomiting taint his judgment. Sure... Jazz’ threat to give a false statement and even get his staff to do the same was mean and had a certain criminal energy... But then he really did start this by threatening him with charges first.

Jazz digits sneaked their way under his slowly relaxing plating and Barricade actually liked that. Liked the way the other's emf engulfed him in interest and want. He rarely was so sought after by others. He flared his plating, let the mech reach his sweet spots, slowly forgetting his anger, his fear. "See... that's better my pretty little Barricade. You are young, got a temper. I like that, so I'll let your little offence slip this time but I rather not have you talk to me like that again"

"N-no. I'm sorry...ah" The words slipped out before he could other think the other's wording, get behind the implication. But it was so damn hard to concentrate when such talented servos worked ones frame all the way up to a sweet tactile overload. Barricade vented heavy as he came down from the high, still his charge wasn't going down like this and to his shame he was sure that he was wet enough to leak through his panel if he waited too long. On one servo this was a bad idea. Jazz was pretty and enticing but clearly not the most law-abiding mech and Barricade was an enforcer. Just, ‘facing with the club boss one more time didn't mean that he would have to see him again. He was just making sure that the things he had enjoyed yesterday really were his own perceptions of the acts...

Jazz caught his lips for a short kiss. "Open. I can feel how aroused you are" strong servos on his backside now pressed him flush against the Polyhexian. Barricade hummed but his optics caught how the big mech, pawed his panel. Ugh. No way in hell he'd give the pervert another show. And Bumblebee, who he would not mind watching, was nowhere to be seen today, probably had a day off. Too bad.

"Not here, not again. If you want to get some this time, we do it in private or not at all..." Jazz smile lost its depth for a second, and Barricade was sure he felt an edge in the other's emf before it smoothed out again. "Have a room here, nothing fancy. Has a bed and some random stuff in it. But it should give you that privacy you demand you little prude" the last words were said with teasing grab of Barricade's ass and an amused chuckle, so the Praxian didn't take any offence from it, just rolled his optics. He climbed off Jazz and glared at the massive mech just once before Jazz took his forearm and pulled him along, grabbing an unmarked bottle with pink liquid in it on the way to the room.

After a few turns they stopped at a door and Jazz punched a code into a console on the side. Barricade could tell that it was a very good security and locking system, a well-known brand. Maybe this room used to have the place's safe in it before it was converted into a bedroom. Or Jazz simply liked to lock himself up when he spend the night in his club.

The insides was simple though. Most if the space was taken by a big, comfortable looking bed with silky red covers. Importing those was super expensive; Barricade had looked up something similar in the datanet once and decided he wasn't going to starve for months just to buy some fancy bedding. At the foot of the bed sat a big trunk, probably replacement covers. What did catch his attention was something else though. Two pairs of enforcer grade handcuffs were fastened on the beds headboard. Of course Jazz was into that kind of stuff. Barricade shook his head and Jazz, who had apparently followed the other's gaze, chuckled.

"Don't tell me you have never tried that before. I mean you got the necessary merchandise on hand, don't you?" The Polyhexian offered Barricade the bottle after taking a generous swing first. Barricade sipped carefully at the liquid not trusting any drink offered from Jazz anymore.

"Not everyone is as perverted as you, Jazz" he stated suddenly feeling nervous about what he had agreed to. He rarely let others top him. But here he was, a rather high charge still lingering in his systems, just a few minutes away from getting spiked again, willingly. Jazz had taken the first pull from the bottle so it was probably save, Barricade mused and took a bigger gulp, suddlenly feeling the need for a little bit highgrad to sooth his system. Jazz then pried the bottle from his servo setting it aside. "Not having you complain that I raped you after you were too drunk to give consent" He bluntly said, leering at the slightly slimmer mech after taunting him.

"And you might as well get that attitude of your in check. Not only when we are out in the open, sweet stuff. But especially when my staff is around. I am their boss after all and if they see that I let you talk to me like that, it might rub them the wrong way. Got it?" Jazz smile didn't falter for a second and the servos on Barricade's frame where still light and teasing but the Praxian still felt threatened by the other's words. And he had the strange feeling that there was enough power behind the mech to back the threat up. More power than a simply club keeper was supposed to have. So Barricade nodded but could not follow that trail of thoughts any further since Jazz continued. "Good. Now how about you trust my judgement about those?"

He pointed to the handcuffs. "Up until now I did know better what you like than you did, or didn't you love to fuck Bumblebee in front of me and Trailbreaker?" Barricade flushed again, felt ashamed about having interfaced out in the open not once but twice... But truth be told, alone remembering how slick Bumblebee had been for him, how he had wanted him and taken his spike without any second thought it had been great. He really wished the willing little thing was around right now. "Oh, yes you did. Your field feels great when you are so openly thirsty for my cute employee... maybe I let you use him another night, if you trust my judgement again? Come on." Jazz urged Barricade on the bed, clearly determined to get him up to the headboard. The enforcer knew why. And he didn't feel good about getting cuffed down by the shady keeper but disagreeing would probably mean to not get another night with Bumblebee neither. So he considered it for a moment. It… wasn't like anyone would see how he did it, so afterwards he could pretend it never happened. Right?

"All Right. I'll try it. Once. But you won't do anything weird like touching my port like yesterday; just shareware takes it up the port. And that just because they are too used up to really give a decent squeeze with their lose valves" Jazz directed Barricade's arms up to the cuffs, closing and locking them into place. "If you say so... ma digits won't even get close to your port and now stop the worrying and relax until I am done here" Jazz whispered, testing the handcuffs and got behind him again.

Now Barricade started to feel a hint of nervousness grow inside his guts again, he couldn't believe he was really doing this, he thought as we tugged a little at the cuffs around his wrists. It was a strange feeling to be at someone's mercy like this, someone who had been a stranger to him only two days ago. Behind him he heard how Jazz opened the trunk, but however he twisted and turned he couldn't see what the keeper was doing. "Jazz...?" No his voice was not shaky, just strained from turning his head in an angle to make out something. "Just a second pretty... just had to get the right equipment... here we go" the visored mech singsonged while Barricade's processor blanked in panic, only to provide him with a million horrible things Jazz could have pulled out if that trunk. Behind him Jazz stilled for a second before snorting. "Come on now! Calm your hood 'Cade we agreed on this... no reason to panic just because of a few extra ropes. Those are necessary to get the full experience, really"

The Praxian did relax a little at that. Ropes. Jazz got some ropes, no drugs, no fucked up sex toys and no weapons... just a few, harmless ropes. He still didn't like to get even more restrained but it was certainly better than every option his processor has provided him with a few seconds ago. Not saying much more Jazz started the binding with his doorwings or rather with the hinges, knotting a rope around each until the entire hinge was wrapped up and from the way he couldn't move them Jazz must have linked them together as well. Both ropes were brought around his neck next, where Jazz made a few seemingly complicated knots as well. It felt very restrictive and a little tight but after his embarrassing little panic attack he didn't dare to whine about that. Even if the angle he now had to hold his head was anything but comfortable.

Apparently Jazz wasn't done though, since he could hear him digging around in the trunk again. The next thing he felt was how his ankles were shackled as well. He now could only spread his legs more but not close them again. He really was at Jazz mercy, who now traced the seams of his cover with a single digit. "Better open up now, pretty. You're already so hot, if you keep closed much longer you are gonna burn up..." Barricade didn't even realize he was still this aroused but questioned that something like that was even possible, but humored Jazz by opening up anyways, rationalizing that he was still hot and charged up from the stupid tactile overload The Polyhexian had given him earlier. The second his cover was gone the collected lubricant dripped freely out. Some directly staining the expensive covers, some running down his thighs

"Sorry..." Barricade murmured lowly. Face flushing again at the thought that Jazz was behind him and could see everything all too well. "No need to feel sorry for wanting me so much, babe. At least we don't have to waste any more time getting you primed" Jazz kneed the enforcers legs further apart, servos placed as leverage on the other’s dark hips, his own cover gone and his hard spike pressing inside the Praxian immediately . Barricade moaned and grabbed the headboard as Jazz started to pound into him, at once. It was the only thing he could do, cuffed and bound as he was.

And then a servo slipped around Barricade's frame rubbing his anterior node before sliding up to his spike cover, which didn't need much coaxing to release the ready member. Barricade shuddered as Jazz gave his spike a few firm strokes. "Oh please... don't stop that, please" he begged lost in pleasure. Jazz leaned down, kissed his back while slowing down a little. "I don't know... How about we trade favors? I stroke you out and you suck me off afterwards. I'd just love to have your lips around my spike..."

Barricade liked receiving blowjobs but giving them? Not so much. Still, those digits that still lingered around the base of his spike had felt so damn good squeezing around his shaft. He nodded and Jazz started his pounding again, only with the addition of a clever servo around Barricade's spike. It was great and at least for now the enforcer was sure, that this was absolutely worth giving head later.