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Cliffjumper felt his spark stutter when a trio of jets began to descend upon him. He transformed into a car, peeling out towards an abandoned building.
The garage was spacious, causing his tires to keep giving him away. He dove into a battle stance in his bot mode, pulling out his gun.
Backing up towards a pillar, he bumped back against a metal leg. His servos came up behind his helm, feeling around without looking back.
The game was up, but Cliffjumper never took losing well. “There were three of you up there!” He shouted at Skywarp. “How was that remotely fair?”
Skywarp tapped his chin, giving a goofy smile, and shrugging, “I don’t know, squirt. Why don’t you ask somebot who plays by your rules?”
Cliffjumper bared his denta, throwing his servo in annoyance. “Whatever, I’m out of here. You guys couldn’t wait five kliks to get to this part.”
Starscream stood in front of Cliffjumper, giving a fake little gasp. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you expecting us to drop everything to do things as you wanted?” He knelt down to reach his level, poking a pointed servo at his chassis. “Listen, Cliffjumper, we don’t need you, but we want you. Any grounder would be honored to be our little plaything. Either stick around for the main event, or go crying back home to those Autobots who wouldn’t ever put out to a pint-sized grouch.”
That was sadly a good point. Cliffjumper didn’t respect them, and in return, it really wasn’t looking good for him if he couldn’t perform.
Cliffjumper had spike modification, which really intrigued them. The bumps would rub the inner nodes so well, the seekers would shriek and cling to each other as they rode him mercilessly. Sometimes his faceplate, too, though Starscream usually scoffed at such a practice. As if just valve intercourse was more classy.
Thundercracker seemed to be the most pent up, already trying to pin him down his one servo, and peel his spike panel back with his other fingers. “You have no idea how stressful it is to deal with these two. Open up, already.”
Cliffjumper felt Skywarp hold him down, his glossa lapping along his horn. His optics shuddered, intake agape. “Uh… yeah…” The thick, textured glossa made it to his derma, sliding in eagerly.
Starscream stood with his arms crossed. “Don’t mind me. I’m only the one who came up with this meeting!” He growled when Thundercracker flicked his wings to dismiss his complaining. “Excuse me!”
“You’re excused,” Thundercracker vented huskily, easily enveloping the spike in his large intake. He swirled his glossa, groaning and tasting the solar cycle of travel that collected on it.
“Such whores for a grounder! Flight frames everywhere would be ashamed of you.” Starscream slowly but surely knelt down next to the wet sounds, his servos coming to cover his panels.
Cliffjumper’s exposed chest would be a good place to strike, yet his servo reached out, rubbing a side window. The minibot tensed, arching when Starscream rubbed over the bump of the hood in his curiosity. Starscream had never really taken the time to actually look at the little mech.
Skywarp grinning through the sloppy kisses as Thundercracker began to tongue into the small valve, earning a thrashing review. He grabbed the arms, holding them over the minibot’s helm. “We’re all going to make you overload again and again. This is for our pleasure, not yours, dirt kisser.”
When Cliffjumper was so foggy he just let his arms rest where they were placed, Skywarp teleported to be able to suck the spike next. He made sure his derma were rubbed against, not wanting it all to be soft and mushy.
“You Deceptifreaks, you’re going to make me..!” Cliffjumper finally let it out when Starscream shoved Skywarp over, closing his lips over the tip with a purr in his throat.
They didn’t let up after that. It only made them fight over who lapped it all up. Cliffjumper shook his hips slightly, trying to lean up and see three glossas envelop his spike in harmony. “Oh, Primus, what are you doing to me?”
Starscream shoved his chest back to the parking garage floor, “Whatever we like. None of your grounder friends will ever believe you. We could ride every last drop out of you, and your medic would only diagnose you as turbobatty.”
Cliffjumper noticed Skywarp slowly getting behind Thundercracker. “Are you forming a line, or what?” He tried to wisecrack, flinching when Starscream suddenly descended to lick the condensation from his neck.
“Tight,” Cliffjumper and Skywarp got out, Thundercracker having to grip the ground hard around Cliffjumper’s chassis. He’d taken them both, and clamped down his calipers. He was practically back with the All-Spark in his joy.
Starscream didn’t take long to seat himself on Cliffjumper’s faceplate. “Go on, you little creature. Give me a reason not to crush you like this.” He was soon caught up in kissing Thundercracker, that he just ground down, barely acknowledging Cliffjumper otherwise.
They both rode their side of Cliffjumper’s body, panting and sharing their glossas. Skywarp rested against Thundercracker’s back, using his powers to slam his spike suddenly in and out.
Cliffjumper thrust up wildly, caught between sucking on such a prissy node, and wanting better grinding up against his spike. “Can’t you three help me down here?” He mumbled out his disagreement.
They froze, Starscream lifting his aft back to stare down at Cliffjumper. “Oh, I see. Your pleasure means more than ours.” He smirked over to his trine, who had a similar expression. “What do to say, Skywarp? Make this Autobot sing for us?”
Skywarp soon teleported, his chassis rested up next to Cliffjumper’s helm, petting the horns between his servos while Starscream used him as a springboard. “Sure thing, boss.”
Thundercracker was stuck, gaped open and trying to get the same pleasure from just one minibot spike. “I hate you,” He decided, glaring at Skywarp for abandoning his post.
Making a point to some Autobot was not his idea of fun.
So, knowing it would never fill him all the way, Thundercracker held it against his twitching node, shuddering out a moan. “Now this? You can’t get this from the Decepticons.” They had smaller mechs, but none that were like this.
Cliffjumper, under all his attitude, was willing to just take it from bigger bots. It had Thundercracker gushing over the spike, just thinking about it. “I’m so close, Starscream. Can I overload?”
“Shut up,” Starscream snapped as he glared at Thundercracker’s whining, grabbing Skywarp by the helm and offering up his blinking node. “This little glossa is worthless. Lick it like a properly sized bot, Skywarp.”
The taunting had Cliffjumper growling, parting the giant lips, then sucking on them individually. He used his denta to scrape so delicately, but they were thick enough it wouldn’t really cause any damage, anyways.
“Oh, you..! Oh!” Starscream had Skywarp trapped there, optics glitching as he was sucked all over by two eager dermas. “I won’t forget this. I’ll get you back.”
Skywarp smirked, yanking away, then moving to rest his aft up against Thundercracker’s thighs. His valve squished up against Thundercracker’s spike, grinding where he sat. “What do you think?” He asked between kisses with Starscream. “Can this twerp last more rounds with us?”
Thundercracker had barely heard Cliffjumper ejaculate. He reached down picking up strands hanging from his valve lips. Sticking them into his intake, Thundercracker shivered at the taste. “Mm, a lot better than you two, that’s for sure. He doesn’t taste like polish.”
“Dirt, probably,” Starscream grumbled, riding back and forth over the faceplate of his enemy. “Awe, is Cliffjumper trying to fight back?”
They did have a system, in case they went too far. They were Decepticons, but they weren’t going to give up such a cute little toy. The only preferable bounty would be Bumblebee, but what was the difference besides the color, the seekers wondered.
Cliffjumper vented through the overload covering his faceplate and chest, once Starscream stood up. “That all you got?” He moaned, spike pathetically twitching beneath the folds of Thundercracker’s node.
“Is that all we have? Oh, Cliffjumper, you shouldn’t have asked that.” Starscream picked up Cliffjumper, placing him into the middle of the seekers seated in a circle around him.
Cliffjumper shook as he was held still by multiple servos. “What are you doing? Don’t rub my windows with your tongues, Deceptigoons!” His voice was tired, but pleasured. The seekers really enjoyed their prey as long as possible. “My doors! Don’t play with my doors! I’m not a toy!” He cried, knowing what the flight frames wanted to hear.
Their large fingers opened the unlocked chassis up, Skywarp and Thundercracker using their dermas to suck and nip at the opened doors. Rubbery tongues ran along his seats, playing with his steering wheel and rolling around his gear shift.
Starscream, meanwhile, groaned and sucked Cliffjumper while the minibot was distracted. He hated Thundercracker for being right. Bots that didn’t practically bathe in chemicals were much more delicious.
He took the transfluid in his throat, grunting when he realized Cliffjumper made quite a lot for what his size was. What a reliable vehicle, Starscream thought, not daring to compliment a grounder out loud.
Starscream pulled away, letting his trine come closer to him. He kissed both of them with glossa, the transfluid dribbling between their intakes.
Cliffjumper flinched when he felt it get all over him. “Hey, my doors are still open! Give me a klik.” He slammed them shut, starting to lose his excitement over the whole ordeal. “Am I invisible now? Let me go!”
Before he slammed to the ground, Cliffjumper transformed, and rolled away before the seekers lost interest in each other.
Laughing, Cliffjumper looked back in his rear view mirror. Starscream cried out, being taken from both sides by his trine mates.
“What weirdos,” Cliffjumper scoffed to himself, leaving a saliva trail for a few miles from his wet frame.