71: Broken

Warnings: Noncon/forced oral (M/MA rating for this chapter)

"I still don't get it, "old friend," any other mech, any other time you would've left me for dead. What ghastly horrors await me as your personal slave?"

Mirage punched a few numbers into the keypad of his apartment and the door opened with a whoosh. He yanked on his captive's stasis locks and dragged him inside.

"Seems like the war hasn't affected you at all," Sideswipe murmured in awe. His optics swept up and down the room, which was as big as the bunker on the Autobot base. Every corner was filled with expensive Electrum and crystal furniture. Trinkets were scattered everywhere. Sideswipe licked his mouth as he noticed the Energon dispenser, whose glass reservoir revealed the shimmering pure pink of high grade.

"My knowledge of precious mining equipment, and import connections give me a vast plethora of resources Decepticon's couldn't get if I were dead. I maintain a great deal of autonomy, and the ability to make a bit of money on the side."

"You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. Why do you want me? Are Megatron and his goons not allowing your carnal needs to be met?"

Mirage moved to the Energon dispenser and poured a cube. He watched Sideswipe watch him drink with lust. The Autobot must be starving.

"I haven't forgotten how you seem to get off on snappy dialogue and snarky quips," Sideswipe added.

"No Sideswipe, I'm afraid that it is another common element from our past that makes me interested in you. You too have a vast knowledge of trade. Before the war there was rarely a day that you weren't at the docks charming your way into fortunes. I find myself in need of assistance if I'm going to continue to advance, and I'm afraid my faction only provides grunts and morons in their ranks."

"That's a fine idea Mirage, but what if your captive is less than willing?"

Mirage got uncomfortably close to the bound mech, raised the cube to his mouth, and offered him a drink.

Sideswipe hungrily accepted and downed the rest of the cube.

"How's your twin brother Sideswipe?" Intel and personal experience indicated that traditional tactics would not work. This one would not be swayed with high grade, promises of amnesty, or a high-ranking position in the Decepticon army. "When was the last time you saw him?"

Sideswipe dropped his sarcastic demeanor. His jaw fell slack in shock and confusion. Last he heard he was on the front in Kaon…

"It appears the top Autobot brass has him on a little spy mission. Unusual for a melee bot no? Well, we're onto him. Ah-" Mirage waved dramatically. "I give my fellow Decepticons too much credit. I am onto him. I have abilities that give me far more function than buying and selling."

Sideswipe sputtered and cursed.

Mirage wiped a trickle of Energon from the red bot's mouth. "Sideswipe," his voice was cool and familiar again. "I have a lot of ruthless transactions to still attend to today. Are you going to play nice?"

Absolutely none of it made sense. His brother was many things, but one thing he definitely was not was a spy. Yet, Mirage had produced classified documents, images, mission plans…As far as he could tell Mirage had no real reason to lie to him. Not when there was so much evidence that the truth was dismal.

Despite his situation, the warrior seemed to settle into some kind of coexistence with his captor. Mirage ditched the stasis cuffs, and Sideswipe served his function as indentured business partner and secretary.

Mirage insisted on thorough and accurate business records. What time he didn't spend swindling his own faction out of Energon, he spent making underhanded deals.

Sideswipe had heard of mechs going over to the 'con side and changing completely. The most docile turned into fierce and loathsome creatures. For his captor however, this was not the case. Mirage was still his old, waspish, prewar self. He drank high-grade everyday, shot turbo foxes in his lush crystal gardens, and most unsettlingly, looked him in the optic and treated him as a living breathing mech.

It confused the living hell out of Sideswipe. He was designed to handle harsh labor, stinging blows, and unending abuse. But cool indifference at best, and something resembling kindness at worst? Sideswipe frowned as he turned this over and over in his processors. Maybe the 'cons had changed him more than he led on. Maybe this was all some sick psychological game to break him. He'd heard tales of captured Autobots falling in love with their captors after vorns of forced interface and bonding. He leered at him when drunk. Both of them made snide quips about past trysts, but Mirage had never forced himself upon him.

Sideswipe let out a small, hardly audible sigh. It hurt his processors too much to think about the terms of his imprisonment or why he was unable to kill his captor with his bare hands. He turned back to the small assortment of data pads on his desk. Sales, trades, profits and losses, the work although menial, reminded him of long forgotten days.

One particularly surreal Cybertronian afternoon, Sideswipe and Mirage were in the office, a disgustingly ornate room that was lined wall to wall with jewel encrusted tablets. They sat in silence filing and reporting the spoils of Mirage's latest transaction. A band of neutrals, which became rarer and rarer by the day, traded their remaining Energon reserves for safe passage into Autobot territory. Sideswipe doubted the neutrals would live to see the end of the deal upheld.

Sideswipe sat at an ornate golden desk balancing his ledger. Mirage clearly had other things on his mind. He paced the room sipping high-grade and performing his favorite function, complaining.

"I absolutely loathe having those boorish thugs inside my home. They come, guzzle all of my Energon, and on top of that demand another payoff." Mirage grabbed a crystal bottle of polish from one of the many shelves and began preening himself.

"Then why have them over?" Sideswipe murmured without bothering to look up from his ledger. After days of pondering, he'd convinced himself it was a mutual pity, not the pangs of remaining friendship and blackmail that kept Sideswipe from murdering Mirage in cold blood.

"Lord Megatron is not invited, he simply arrives." Mirage moved to the Energon dispenser and refilled his cube. He filled one for Sideswipe as if to say, "Drink. You're going to have to deal with them too. Might as well be drunk."

They drank in silence for a moment. Sideswipe averted his gaze and fidgeted with his hands and data pads. Once again the ability to relate to his captor made him all too uncomfortable.

Mirage set aside his drink and went back to polishing himself. His arms, legs, and torso were no problem. His back however…He buffed his shoulders with ease, reached around to take a swipe at his lower back, but there was that one place in the middle…

"Polish my back." It was an order not a request.

"You're a slagging pervert," Sideswipe replied. There was a certain intimacy associated with grooming another mech.

"This is a perfectly functional operation Sideswipe." Again with the out and out weirdness. Mirage seemed so repulsed by the quip. Sideswipe shrugged in confusion and grabbed the rag and bottle.

He poured the polish onto the rag and with slow, even circles began to rub the polish in. Despite Mirage's words, the affects of Sideswipe's actions became apparent immediately. Mirage's ruby eyes darkened to a smoldering burgundy. Sideswipe could feel the blue plates of Mirage's back heat up. His cooling system kicked in and fans became audible. Even as Sideswipe progressed lower he remained stoic keeping his word that this was going to be a chaste encounter.

"You're no fun today. What happened to that leering 'bot I've grown to begrudgingly tolerate?"

"He's scared out of his mind Sideswipe," Mirage spoke with a frown. The cube of high-grade found its way back to the blue mech's mouth. "More importantly," A strange restrained little noise escaped his mouth."I shall not become the plaything of my plaything."

Sideswipe had never seen mechs down so much high-grade in such a short amount of time. Yet, he was refilling their cubes every few breems. Nor did he ever think he'd get so up close and personal with the top ranking Decepticons off of the battlefield and not be able to beat the processors out of their helms. The stasis bracelets that were locked around his wrists allowed just enough movement to be subservient to Megatron, Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp.

"This is your new plaything Mirage?" Starscream asked in his audio-piercing voice. "If you wanted a big loutish thug, Skywarp would have been more than happy to oblige you, and at half the cost. Megatron, Starscream, and Thundercracker erupted in laughter.

"Who you callin' loutish?" Skywarp slurred. He teleported so that he was directly behind Sideswipe. Rough purple hands grouped between his legs and across his aft. "I don't think his royal highness did half bad myself." Skywarp's hands dug into Sideswipe's hip joints and pawed at sensitive nodes.

Sideswipe let out a slew of curses. Not only was he being pawed at by a filthy Decepticon, but he couldn't do a damn thing about it!

"Skywarp stop." Mirage intervened before the situation could escalate. Despite the fact that he'd been drinking copious amounts of high-grade all evening and afternoon, his voice was collected and cool.

"Raji buddy, what's yours is mine right?"

"Not in this case." Mirage rose from his seat and approached the two mechs. A cobalt hand cupped Sideswipe's chin and gently pulled him forward and away from Skywarp's grasp. "You see I paid a great deal for this one. As you can see I'm quite enthralled with him." His hand moved from Sideswipe's chin to his wrist. Mirage pulled the stunned Autobot into a close embrace. "In order to protect my investment, I've forced him to bond with me."

The rest of the Decepticons erupted with laughter. "How utterly pathetic Mirage!" Megatron rasped. "Holding onto the most pitiful of rituals and then squandering it on this piece of Autobot scrap?" Another burst of laughter ensued.

"If you cannot share your toy with us, then show us what he is capable of!" Starscream exclaimed in a drunken slur.

Mirage's placid expression changed to one of loathing. He crumpled his empty Energon cube in disgust. The command of his superior officer was not meant to merely humiliate his Autobot slave, but to also humiliate him as well. Unlike his fellow Decepicons, he did not find forced acts of interface enjoyable to watch or participate in. It was filthy and barbaric. "I haven't consumed enough high-grade for such hedonistic activities Starscream. "

"Nonsense Mirage, show us what makes this pet worth sheltering," Megatron jeered.

"You corroded slagger! You're not seriously going to listen to him are you?"

Mirage replied with an abrupt backhand. His processors racing; his fluids were boiling. He reeled trying to maintain some element of plausibility and control in the situation.

Sideswipe was barely affected by the blow, and glared at his master.

"Of course I'm serious." Despite the lax treatment within the mansion walls, lest he forget he was a political prisoner. "I'm doing you a favor at my own expense you slagger," Mirage thought to himself. "Don't you realize that if I hadn't lied through closed mouth plates, you'd be getting grouped by more than just one pair of Decepticon hands?"

He led Sideswipe by the wrist to a large translucent privacy screen. He'd purchased it on a long ago holiday to Amoreia, the planet of blatant eroticism. The screen allowed just enough light through to make shadows visible on the other side. Traditionally used as a tease device in erotic dances and shows, it had set unused for centuries among the other extravagant trinkets that adorned his living area. They would both oblige to this little song and dance, but it would be on his terms.

They ducked behind the screen, and he pulled Sidesiwpe into a kiss that was both harsh and demanding. A choir of drunken laughter could be heard from the other side of the screen.

Then Mirage pushed Sideswipe to his knees in a way that was equally harsh and demanding. The blue bot removed the plate of armor over his crotch that housed his interface ports and cables.

"Open your mouth," Mirage ordered. He tugged his interface cable from its housing and held it near Sideswipe's mouth.

"Disgusting."

"Would you expecting anything less from your enemy and, "bondmate?""

"What if I bite it off?"

"I'll kill you without hesitation," he whispered.

With a look of pure distain Sideswipe reluctantly took the cable into his mouth.

"I like where this is going," Tundercracker called.

Sideswipe's metallic tongue snaked around the length of the cord then down to the smooth metallic plug. He lapped at the tip.

Mirage shivered at the contact. He grabbed the back of Mirage's helm and pushed his mouth closer to the wires and ports that crackled with sporadic bursts of blue static.

He encircled a port with his glossa and smirked as Mirage shudded and bit his lip in attempt to hold in a moan. Mirage wasn't exactly complicit in this either.

In. Out. In again. He lapped at the exposed ports. His tongue darted into them and causing a jolt of electricity to travel from the port to his glossa.

"Mirage is pathetic, allowing himself to become completely undone like that…What could I have ever seen in a weak willed aft like that? Oh yeah, that aft…" he thought. The stasis bracelets didn't allow him to throw a punch, but they did allow him to reach behind Mirage and give his aft a good squeeze.

It must've made for a good show for those sitting on the other side of the screen. The lust struck Autobot on his knees servicing his master. The ectacy of the master, the agony of the slave.

Mirage, wanting the whole routine to end, placed his interface cable back in Sideswipe's mouth.

Sideswipe lapped, nipped, and toughed at the small silver plug. With a final shudder and a moan that could not be subdued, Mirage's systems went into overload.

A cacophony of whoops and cheers came from the other side of the screen.

The Decepticons continued to drink themselves into oblivion. They yelled, scuffled, and broke multiple trinkets. While his superiors ran amok in his home, Mirage made certain that no one touched Sideswipe. The pair retired to a chair, and Mirage held him in his lap. The feeling of breathing and nuzzling on Sideswipe's exposed neck cables was constant. One blue hand rested on his inner thigh. The other wrapped around his waist. Anything to make the lie more believable. His faction members would respect him on some level.

Sideswipe sat there silent and uncharacteristically subdued. He was a bit drunk off of high-grade, and very confused. Why would his master put his aft on the line for him? None of it made any sense, and it didn't help that once again his body was betraying him. His armor felt so very, very hot, and he could feel the static building underneath. Damned high-grade.

The cool indifferent voice whispered into his audio, "It is time for my guests to leave, and it would appear that you are a bit drunk. Go to bed Sideswipe."

Because nothing else about the night seemed to make sense, and because his processors were as fuzzy as an abandoned AM frequency, Sideswipe complied.

Later that night he was jolted from recharge by the sound of metal crashing into metal. The metallic thunk of two bodies that were moving made such a cacophonous discord. The sound of stifled moans that weren't completely silenced, grunts, more crashing, they were the unmistakable sounds of interface. Sideswipe lay in the berth and waited for the noise to stop.

After a few breems the noise stopped, but he couldn't offline.

He got out of the berth and roamed the house like a giant red apparition. He felt confused and completely pissed that there was nothing he could do. He entered the spacious sitting room and paused in the shadows once he processed what he saw.

Mirage was standing on the balcony, his back facing the open door. Ugly black and purple streaks marred his chassis. Undoubtedly they'd be buffed out by morning. What he found most shocking was the large garish dents all over Mirage's body. His hips, his shoulders, and even the back of his helm was dented indicating that the noises that woke him were less than consensual.

It still didn't explain his captor's sporadic kindness, protection, or affection, but Sideswipe couldn't help but feel the smallest twinge of empathy deep within his spark. Millions of bots were held prisoner in this war. Some were held behind bars, but Mirage…Mirage's bars were that of Energon and prewar finery. His jailers were his own faction.