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TfEC: Cassette	By : Esotericstyle Category: Comics > Transformers (IDW) > Transformers (IDW) Views: 2025 -:- 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.

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Transformers: Energon City

Cassette 3: Interpersonal accord and conformity

“In Stage three (interpersonal accord and conformity driven), the self enters society by filling social roles. Individuals are receptive of approval or disapproval from other people as it reflects society's accordance with the perceived role. They try to be a good boy or good girl to live up to these expectations, having learned that there is inherent value in doing so.” -Kohlberg

The man was dressed in shadow, a dark figure surrounded by thick cigarette smoke. He lounged precariously on the tall bar chair, boots propped up on the edge of a nearby table. He watched his pet move on the dance floor, waiting for a new pet to take the bait. Outside, an eighteen year old boy was huddled against himself in the cold. Ravage’s small frame was not ideal for this weather, and his fashionable wardrobe did not help. Surrounded by a sea of men wearing little more than leather thongs, he seemed overdressed in a pair of tight jeans, sneakers, and a cropped hoodie that ended just over his midriff. The entrance to the club was beyond a series of turns in an otherwise nondescript alley. The exterior of the club was decorated to look like a Parisian hotel. The centerpiece of the façade was a large wooden sign engraved with the club’s name, Café-Concert. It was known to be one of the biggest nightspots in Energon City’s gay community. Their blend of trance, rock, and industrial music played every night of the week. Ravage stepped up to the plush red velvet rope, under the watchful eye of the bouncer.

Soundwave spun on the dance floor, whipping his arms in great arcs from which glow-sticks left long neon trails. Dozens of eyes followed his body’s movements, its lithe form wrapped in a maze of multi-colored light. His form bobbed and darted, moving in perfect rhythm with the choppy bass of German electronica. The boy, now twenty-one, examined the crowd. There was no one new, no one exciting, and no one remotely interesting. His master had already had them all, and wanted someone fresh. When Ravage entered the Café-Concert, he was directly in Soundwave’s line of vision.

The music shifted, changing to a slow, pounding beat with an Arabian flair. Ravage locked eyes with Soundwave, an athletic male wearing various shades of blue. Soundwave glided across the dance floor, swaying harmoniously. He easily avoided the rhythmic movements of the crowd, until he had joined the newcomer by the bar.

“Forgive the cliché, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“No,” Replied Ravage, “I’ve never really been anywhere like this before.”

“You’re kidding,” Soundwave said sarcastically, “And here I thought that cute lost look on your face was an act.” Ravage blushed noticeably. “Do you dance?”

“No. Well, not as good as you.”

“I don’t ask for perfection, just grind and look pretty.” Soundwave flashed a smile and grabbed Ravage by the wrist. He dragged the boy to the floor, where he held him tightly by the waist. The couple moved together as if they had been performing the same moves for centuries. The crowd inspected the new boy with jealous glares.

“So what, pray tell, prompted your first venture to the seedy underbelly of Energon City?” Soundwave asked unexpectedly, after several hours of dancing. The pair was now relaxing in the bar area. Ravage took a sip of his ill-gotten cocktail.

“I was curious,” he responded coyly.

“Curious? There isn’t really anything to be curious about. A club is a club, right?”

“It wasn’t the club I was curious about.” Ravage looked at Soundwave. The glance carried a thousand messages and one obvious question.

“Ah,” Soundwave smiled again, and knew that Ravage would be his. “Not the club but the occupants, no, the activities within.” Ravage only turned his head, trying to hide his embarrassment. He felt other eyes on him, but didn’t know to whom they belonged. Soundwave suddenly appeared shocked.

“What is it?” Ravage asked.

“Kiss me,” Soundwave began, stunning his new partner. “The bouncer is coming around. He’ll want to see your ID. Trust me.” At that, he grabbed the boy’s face and wrapped his mouth around Ravage’s lips. Ravage was surprised, and his heart skipped a beat. Soundwave’s lips were softer than he had expected, but the masculine force behind them filled a need that Ravage didn’t know existed. He saw the bouncer approaching, and shut his eyes. He let his mouth give way to Soundwave, allowed the older boy’s tongue to penetrate his mouth, and gave in to his true desires. The bouncer, not wanting to interrupt, paused only for a few seconds before moving on. He didn’t get paid nearly enough to care about Ravage’s age in the first place.

“Is he gone yet?” Spoke Ravage breathily. His eyes were still shut. Soundwave opened his to take a quick glance at their nearly empty corner of the bar. The bouncer was nowhere in sight.

“No, he’s still watching us. Don’t speak.” Ravage groaned in agreement. He allowed his head to be cradled in Soundwave’s rough hands. Ravage pulled closer to him, slowly moving his arm around Soundwave’s waist. He left his hand in the small of Soundwave’s back, and let the scent of the man wash over him. His hand clenched softly, and his body tightened from arousal. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted, he didn’t know how to put it into thoughts, but he knew he wanted Soundwave. He said so.

“What was that?” Soundwave asked, after the kiss had been broken.

“I want you.” Ravage looked up at him, trying to read Soundwave’s expression. “Only I, I’ve never been with another man before.”

I guess two is out of the question then, thought Soundwave. He nodded and took Ravage by the hand. “Follow me,” He said. The two fought through the mob of dancers, until they were at the back of the club. A large fresco on the wall was designed to look like the storefronts of a French village. The mural was interrupted by a plain-looking steel door that was poorly camouflaged as the doorway of a Parisian patisserie. Soundwave gave Ravage a devilish glance, and pulled him forward to kiss him. While the boy was otherwise distracted, Soundwave looked past him at the shadowy figure in the bar. The figure gestured with a subtle nod. Soundwave leaned back against the door, pushing it open. The couple fled into a dark hallway, letting the door ease shut behind them. The music was reduced to a bassline which punctuated other, more organic noises.

Ravage’s eyes adjusted quickly to the low red lighting. The hallway was wider than he would have expected, and didn’t seem to lead anywhere in particular. Several curtained doorways branched off from this main hall. The hallway, and presumably the rooms beyond, hosted several pairs or groups of men in various stages of intercourse. Ravage found himself exposed to the only training he would receive about what was to come that night. Soundwave led him past a blonde boy who was greedily sucking the cock of a large dark-haired man, and pulled him into the first room on the left. The room contained a cheap-looking bench, a few cushions on the floor, and was otherwise empty.

Soundwave was sympathetic to Ravage’s obvious apprehension. He sat on the floor, and tugged on Ravage’s pant leg.

“Don’t worry. We’ll start slow. Come down here and kiss me, unless you’d rather have one of the boys in the hall.” Ravage sat hastily, letting his hip rest against Soundwave’s. They kissed again. Ravage tasted Soundwave’s sweat on his lips, felt the coarse skin of Soundwave’s palms on his neck, and felt Soundwave’s heat through his clothes. Ravage worked from instinct, remembering what girls had done to him, and placed his hand on Soundwave’s chest. He was surprised by the firmness of Soundwave’s body. Ravage dropped his hand slowly, dragging his fingertips down Soundwave’s stomach. He worked his fingers around Soundwave’s belt, tugging fruitlessly at the buckle. He broke the kiss, turning his attention to Soundwave’s clothing. Using both hands, he easily undid the youth’s belt, and unsnapped the button on his jeans. Soundwave leaned back, allowing Ravage better access, and sighed softly as the teen unzipped the denim fly.

Ravage stopped. He knew that after this, he could never go back. He was terrified. Ravage mustered his strength and looked up into Soundwave’s eyes. After that, he lost all doubt. Ravage thrust his hand into the folds of denim and grasped Soundwave’s cock.

“You have a pretty good idea of how this works, for a virgin, kid.”

“Ever hear of the internet?” Ravage smiled at the unintentional praise and pulled Soundwave’s cock free. Ravage explored Soundwave gently. He stroked the man’s cock with his fingertips, amazed at the contrast of soft skin and rigid hardness. He sighed, nervous, ran his fingers through his hair, and lowered his mouth over Soundwave’s cock. Soundwave groaned, placing his hand on Ravage’s head to guide him.

“That feels great, just watch your teeth.” Soundwave couldn’t remember the last time it was his cock getting sucked, and he focused on enjoying it. He was very vocal, trying to encourage Ravage all the way. Soundwave’s cock plunged into moist heat, filling Soundwave with a subtle pleasure, but he knew that Ravage wasn’t skilled enough yet to get him off like this.

“That’s enough for now, Ravage. Get those jeans off and we’ll go to step two.” Soundwave stood, and helped Ravage to his feet. He hooked his fingers into Ravage’s belt loops and pulled. The fabric fell easily to the floor, and Ravage stepped out of it. Soundwave spun Ravage around, and pushed him forward until his outstretched arms hit the wall. Ravage’s pale hands grasped the wall, a concrete thing covered in flaking red paint. He looked over his shoulder, just catching Soundwave stepping out of his jeans.

“Fuck me hard,” Ravage said, in a throaty tone, “Don’t treat me like a virgin.” Soundwave smirked, noting the flushed pink on Ravage’s cheeks.

“As you command,” Soundwave replied, grasping his throbbing cock. He stepped toward the boy, and positioned himself to enter.

The dark figure by the bar was on the move. Most of the club patrons ignored him, they had learned to. He made his way toward the painting of the patisserie, shouldering by some of the more stubborn dancers. After a quick glance over his shoulder, the off-duty cop moved into the back room of the Café-Concert. He briefly scanned the small crowd, but knew where the boy was. Barricade strode to the first doorway on the left. Unofficially, it was his private room; only he and Soundwave really used it, due largely to boastful threats. He filled the doorframe, and gazed at the scene within.

The newcomer had his arms pressed against the crumbling wall, as if they had given up supporting his weight. The boy’s face was also against the concrete, his eyes shut from pain, his face sweaty from pleasure. Soundwave’s hands were around the boy’s waist, the muscles of his ass tense with effort. He was fucking the boy with little restraint. A trickle of blood on the floor indicated that the newcomer was fresh, if not virginal. Soundwave had noticed Barricade’s entrance, and turned his head to face him. He mouthed something to the officer. Ravage. So that was the new one’s name. Ravage tried to groan, but the sound was choked off as his jaw clenched. Soundwave was thrusting more vigorously, putting on a show for his master.

Barricade knew that Soundwave was close to orgasm from the short huffs he let out as he thrust. Luckily, Ravage was close as well. A soft whine escaped Ravage’s lips, and a few seconds later, cum dripped down the old red wall. Barricade saw Soundwave bite his lip, the pressure causing it to whiten briefly. His breath paused shortly, before being expelled in a loud gasp. His thrusts slowed, and then stopped entirely. He collapsed against Ravage, letting his hands cover Ravage’s. After a moment’s rest, Soundwave withdrew. Barricade couldn’t help but become aroused at the sight of the used teen slumped against the wall, semi-conscious, dripping sweat and cum. Ravage opened his eyes, seeing his audience for the first time.

“Wha… Who the fuck are you?!” He shouted, as he collapsed into the corner of the room, in an attempt to cover himself.

“Now, now. It’s a bit late to be actin’ modest, boy.” Barricade stepped into the room, no longer worried about surprising the kid. Soundwave approached Barricade, kissing him softly on his bottom lip. He then addressed Ravage.

“This is Barricade. He’s my owner.”

“Owner…?” Ravage tried to process the conversation.

“That’s right,” Barricade interrupted. “Soundwave belongs to me, and as such, anything that belongs to him, belongs to me.” Ravage felt himself being eyed, and suddenly knew that he was the item in question.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” Ravage asserted, mostly to himself. “I sure as hell don’t belong to you!”

“No need to be gettin’ argumentative.” Barricade brushed open his coat, revealing the butt of his issued pistol. Ravage’s eyes widened. “Not that I’m implying anything, but what would your parents think if they knew where you were?” Ravage remained silent. Soundwave stepped past his master, drawing the blood red curtain across the doorway. “Soundwave’ll tell you, it’s much easier to give in and take it. Fighting back just makes it hurt more.” Ravage saw little opportunity to escape. Barricade was armed, and Soundwave was blocking the only exit. The best course of action seemed to be to give in to the cop’s desires, and once it was over, to never return.

Ravage turned slowly, facing the corner of the room. He braced himself against both of the meeting walls. Ravage would not turn back to face them, he didn’t want them to see the tears in his eyes. He heard shuffling fabric, and the clink of metal hitting the floor. Soon after, Barricade’s calloused hands were around his hips. Ravage arched his back, angling himself to give Barricade an easier entrance. Soundwave had been painful enough, and he assumed that the older man would be less forgiving. Based on feeling alone, however, Barricade did not seem that much larger than Soundwave was. The man penetrated him without warning or foreplay of any kind.

Despite his best efforts, choked sobs were forced from his lungs as Barricade slid into him. After what seemed an eternity, Barricade’s entire length filled him. The man leaned over him; his breath was hot in Ravage’s ear. Barricade’s thrusts were slow but deliberate, and his breathing was the same. Ravage’s body trembled uncontrollably, and his legs shuddered, threatening to give way. His body was so involved in the extreme pleasure of his new sexuality, that Ravage found it hard to feel the pain. After ten minutes, when Barricade stopped unexpectedly, Ravage found himself grinding his hips back, pulling the cop’s cock inside. He hated Barricade, but he needed him, more than he needed anything ever before.

Barricade’s nails dug into the supple flesh of Ravage’s hips, drawing blood. The teen spasmed wildly in the cop’s hands. Three short cries exploded from his glistening lips. Barricade fought for a few more precious seconds, whispering into Ravage’s ear.

“Yes!” Ravage shouted in reply, “Yes! Fill me with it!” Barricade threw his head back, and shouted as he came. Soundwave’s eyes were drawn to the floor. His jaw was set in a firm grimace.

This time, Ravage was able to feel the hot fluid filling his cavity. The sensation brought new heights to this experience, and with Barricade’s withdrawal, he came again. His knees finally gave out, and Ravage slid slowly to the dirty floor. There he lay, panting against the wall, as Soundwave redressed Barricade.

The next morning, a cruiser pulled into the parking lot of a seldom visited apartment complex on the south side of Energon City. Three people entered the building.
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TfEC: Cassette