Hotrod snarled and continued to struggle in spite of his warning.

"You think I'm-I'm just going to give up!? You're a bigger bunch of idiots than I thought!" He flared his optics before powering them down and attempting to transform... only to endure a rather painful grinding in the back of his neck before remembering that his transformation cog had been disabled. As had his weapons. He arched and attempted to focus all his energy on his right hand, pulling with all his might to free it. Fear and panic began to wail in the back of his central processor no matter how hard he tried to ignore them. He just - he had to think like Kup and Prime and - and Magnus...

Scourge shook his head.

"No, not really, but i felt it was my duty to tell you anyway." He said, chuckling a little, even as he struggled against the rather strong, he must admit, autobot warrior. The sweeps were having the same difficulty and, as the autobot pooled his power into his right arm, he flung a sweep backwards. Scourge immediately grabbed for the arm, as did one of his men.

"Hold him you useless heaps!" The sweep quickly recovered and was on Hotrod again, keeping him steadily held now. Scourge jerked his head backwards and him, and the sweeps, rose to their feet with Hotrod held between them. They started down the hall, dragging their captive with them.

Hotrod let his helm fall backwards and powered down his optics, seeming to give up for the time being. There was no way he would be able to fight off four Decepticons while being carried like this - he would just have to swallow his fear and wait. They would eventually have to set him down, right? Eventually they'd have to release him in order to restrain him... It only made sense. He'd make his move then. It sounded like a good, solid plan to him - or maybe he was just telling himself that. His core let out a low, mournful whine and he almost blushed. He hated that he still couldn't regulate his core to the extent of his age-mates. He was sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that Bumblebee would never let a sound like that escape him in the face of torture. His optics powered back up.

'Primus, give me strength.'

Scourge felt Hotrod relax in his arms but did not let his guard down. With the way he was fighting a moment ago, the chances of him giving in so quickly were slim and none. He held fast and prepared himself for when the autobot might begin struggling again. If they were caught off guard, he might have a chance of wiggling free. And they couldn't have that. The odd group made their way down several halls until they came to a slow in front of a door. One of the sweeps with a free hand input a code in a pin pad and the door slid open quickly. They walked inside with Hotrod. In the room was a plethora of equipment, the uses of which could not be easily determined at a glance. For someone who knew a little about decepticon torture, however, they might be more recognizable.

Hotrod powered his optics back up just in time to get an up-side-down view of the room. He stiffened and balled his hands into fists to refrain from loosing his cool. He was an Autobot. He was a trained warrior a-a fighter. He could do this. How many times had Kup been captured and tortured? He'd made it back every time, it only made him stronger. Magnus too, Hotrod thought, had been captured once or twice - and each time had managed to lead a full scale escape. One time he even convinced the Junkions captured with him to help! ... But Hotrod didn't have an army of Junkions. He didn't even have the Mini-con anymore. He felt his chassis shudder and he tightened his cables in preparation.

Scourge led the little group inside the room and motioned the rest toward a study-looking chair in the middle of the room. With a little maneuvering, the sweeps and their leader began to shift Hotrod into the chair. it was covered in restraints and looked as though it could move into different positions with a set of controls on a nearby console. Finally getting him into a sitting position, the sweeps held his shoulders down firmly while Scourge began to fasten the restraints which seemed to be made from a very solid metal, some kind of steel alloy, dense and heavy.

"Don't let all the equipment in here frighten you autobot, i like to do things more the...old fashioned way. I'm a hands-on kind of guy. It's really the mini-con you ought to worry about...that Thrust is a piece of work..."

"Get scrapped!" Hotrod hissed before spitting at Scourge. He balled his hands into fists and leaned from one side to the other in an attempt to free his arms and legs. He slowed a bit as he heard the warning and narrowed his optic scope at the leader of the sweeps.

"What do you mean?" He hissed. "What's he going to do to Swindle?" He felt his core hum deep within his midsection, knotting his surrounding cables in worry. The little red mini-con was most certainly not his favorite of the little bots, but he didn't want the Decepticons to rip him to shreds either. He and Starscream had, well, kind of switched sides now.. which almost made them Autobots. Hotrod chanced a glance around the room and instantly powered down his optics and bit back a whine upon seeing some of the scattered equipment.

Scourge pulled back from the spit, smiling. Oh good, he hoped the little autobot hadn't really lost his fight yet. He cocked his head. He didn't realy expect the young bot to take him seriously and really be more worried about the minicon than himself. He looked around as if to assure himself that he had taken him to the correct room. He had. It was just the 'way of the autobots' he supposed. A bit foolish if you asked him. But oh well.

"Swindle? The minicon? Oh well, Thrust's a scientist type, fascinated by things unknown...or whatever. I assume he'll take him apart. But slowly, keep him online for as long as possible. That's just how he works. Sadistic bastard. He wants to...learn about the minicons, or so he says. I just think it's an excuse to do...well, i won't go into details." He felt a bump against his back and glanced over his shoulder at an eager sweep. Scourge glared at the aerial 'con and he shrunk back a little.

"You, on the other hand, are in for a different kind of fun." He said, smiling. He could hear the sweeps shifting behind him.

"If he terminates that mini-con," Hotrod started, optics focusing on one of the sweeps and then darting to another in near-panic, "Optimus Prime will rip off his faceplate and feed it to the Dinobots!" He moved his optics back to Scourge and scowled deeply at the Decepticon, his optics focusing on his smirk.

He attempted to arch away from the chair, but he had little room to play with and it got him nowhere. He gripped the armrests tight enough to dent them under his fingertips and tried to stand. His arm joints groaned and his aft hit the chair hard. He powered down his optics to think and reform a plan. His spark was pulsing frantically, energon running through his wires thin and fast. He should com. the other Autobots - no, no that wouldn't work. They wouldn't be within transmission range and even if they were it would be selfish to do such a thing. They knew he was a prisoner - they didn't need to know he was about to be tortured.

Scourge actually laughed at this.

"That idealistic fool doesn't have the ballbearings for such an act." he informed Hotrod, not bothering to tighten the restraints as the autobot pulled against them in vain. He was entirely confident that he could not escape the chair and it showed in his faceplate. He took a step forward.

"Like i said autobot, he will keep him alive for as long as he can, but he is twisted in the central processor, even i can't predict what exactly he'll do to the minicon." He turned to lookat the sweeps briefly. They fanned out on the silent signal and reformed around the chair, a sweep on all sides.

"Now, i think it best to focus on the business at hand. I will need from you all the Teletrann I security codes and the frequency the autobots use to contact Cybertron."

Hotrod powered up his optics and tilted his helm frantically in each direction as the sweeps surrounded him on all sides. He forced himself to regulating his cooling, hunching his shoulders upwards and tensing his cables manually as he counted to breathe in and out like a mantra. It didn't help. His core still churned, his lower cords knotted and his spark pulsed so frantically it hurt. He looked up at Scourge and grinned in defiance, though his voice was distorted by his worrying gears and gyros.

"You - you think I'm just g-gonna spill? J-just like that? It's gonna t-take more than that t-to get me to give you anything." He narrowed his optic scope and quickly added. "I won't tell you a slaggin' thing you freak."

Scourge shrugged in a oddly human way.

"Meh, it was worth a try. But you know i'm glad you refused, like i knew you would. This would be no fun if you just told me stuff." He said, hearing mumblings of agreement from his identical counterparts that were now flanking Hotrod on all sides.

"Ya know, information gathering is the highest priority, but i wouldn't have volunteered for this job if i didn't enjoy what i was doing." he leaned in and began the delicate job of removing the outer armor on Hotrod's left upper thigh. Each sweep took a piece of armor. Forearm, shoulder, and upper arm on the other side. They too began to remove the outer armor manually. They were surprisingly slow and gentle, deliberate. Scourge grinned. He wanted the autobot to feel every disconnection, every pinch and tug as he was slowly revealed and vulnerable.

Hotrod snarled and tried to move out of Scourge's grasp, but he was surrounded, and moving away from one meant moving into another. His optics flared and he began looking from each sweep to the other frantically as they began to remove his outer armor. No.. no this wasn't - they weren't supposed to - Kup and Ironhide, they'd been beaten through their outer armor! Prime too had damage only to his most outer layer...

Hotrod made a soft whine and powered down his optics at the sensation of so many hands on him at once. He turned his helm quickly and bit down on the hand of the sweep on his right upper arm. He clenched as hard as he could and pulled.

The sweep careened backwards, having expected anything but that from the autobot captive. He looked at his hand and the gouge there in shock.

"H-He bit me!" he stuttered, looking from the other sweeps to Scourge. The sweep leader sighed in an exasperated kind of way.

"Well, bite him back then you empty-headed bucket of spare parts if you are going to whine about it! Now get back to it and be more careful." he said before continuing his work.

"Now, i don't know what they teach you little ones in Decepticon 101, but i like to do things a little bit differently than my...predescessors. I find that the....feeling is more potent with the outer armor off. Now, we don't have the tools to remove autobot outer armor so...this might hurt...a lot." with that, he yanked the newly disconnected plate over Hotrod's leg. He waited a moment before nodding. One sweep after another pulled the pieces off...one at a time. The last one, the sweep at Hotrod's upper arm glared at the autobot and pulled very slowly before giving a sharp tug that sent even the sweep himself backwards with it's force.

Hotrod's optics remained locked on the sweep he'd bitten as the offender stumbled away. He snarled at him as he walked closer and then his helm shot towards Scourge as his last few words sunk in. He straightened in the chair in another attempt to move away from Scourge's hands but was unable to do so. He bit down on his glossa though his optics flared in pain. He managed to keep his vocal components off until the last sweep got his revenge for the hole in his hand. Hotrod's helm hit the back of the chair as he shouted in pain and powered down his optics. The fans near to his pauldrens whirred to life to keep his internal temperatures down. His chest heaved a moment.

Now that parts of Hotrod were explosed Scourge smiled.

"Don't worry autobot, we'll take it slow. You seem young...a mere child really. I'm sure you haven't experienced anything like this before in your short years." he chuckled to himself as he stepped closer to the young bot, leaning in close. Keeping Hotrod's attention focused on his faceplate as he spoke, he reached down with one hand and began to probe the wires and sensitive areas on the inside of the leg as he spoke, looking for the shock in the autobot's eyes. The sweeps stayed back for the moment, letting Scourge do the warmups.

Hotrod's optics immediately focused in on Scourge's as he leaned forward. He tried to look indignant, scowling though his chin quivered.

"I'm not a ch-child." He panted, clenching and unclenching his fists. He felt fingers at his legs and attempted to pull them inwards, lock his knees together, but he could not. He squirmed backwards as far as the chair would let him and as energon rose to his face plate his optics darted away from Scourge. He tried to lift his leg off the chair, digging his heel into the leg where he found purchase and attempting to push off it.

"I-I'm an Autobot." He said, powering down his optics as he tried to tell himself this, more than tell the Decepticons. "I'm stronger than the l-likes of you a-and you cannot break me!"

Scourge ignored the glares he was getting from his team as he let his fingers maneuver their way up the inside of Hotrod's leg. Yes, he knew he was starting the fun without them, but it was seldom he got to do anything without those twits following. They were a capable enough team sure, but sometimes he wondered if they ever had an original thought. He sent them a silent signal to stay back as he grazed Hotrod's lower panel, just the outside, inching towards the seams. He skirted the rim on one side and slipped a finger just barely around it.

"Yes, an autobot. An autobot child. And i am not concerned with 'breaking' you...child. I am just in this for...the entertainment. We don't get to do this a lot here. And quite frankly, this place is bloody boring when they aren't trying to kill each other." he let his finger slip around and underneath for the briefest of moments with a smirk.

Hotrod kept his optics forcefully powered down as he listened to Scourge's insults but they flared online without his consent as he felt Scourge's fingers in a place he never thought they would wander. His back slammed into the chair, his spoiler groaning at the contact and his optics remained wide and frightened on Scourge's face for a nanoclick before he looked shamefully away. That was it then? His core thrummed powerfully, his spark quivered and illuminated his open chestplating in a bright orange glow. He was a-a toy for them? Entertainment?

"Y-you're vile." He whispered attempting to steel himself against Scourge's wandering fingers to no avail. He jerked and squirmed with a hiss of breath.

Scourge shrugged where he leaned, on one knee now, in front of Hotrod. He was effectively wedged between the autobot's legs. He allowed his fingers to slide inside the lower panel, seam open on one side from where he'd removed the armor on Hotrod's thigh. They slid in quick, then out.

"Yeah, well, if i cared what an autobot thought of me, i wouldn't be decepticon, now would i?" he asked. His fingers, surprisingly nimble when he wished it, now slid around the lower panel, removing many of the same attachments as the other armor that had been taken off, slowly, carefully. Instead of making him open the old fashioned way, the intention of completely removing his protection altogether became clear after a moment or two of working.

One of the sweeps stepped forward against Scourge's command and, to prevent any further insults, began to occupy Hotrod's mouth with other...things. He ran a hand along the side of the autobot's face and lingered on his faceplate, his lips. He leaned forward.

"You bite me and i will scrap you myself." he popped a finger into Hotrod's mouth, other hand holding the autobot's head in place so that it could not be moved out of his grasp.

Hotrod arched away again from Scourge's hand shaking his head violently as fear slowly ate at his pride and resolve. He almost uttered a plea as he realized what the Decepticon was trying to do, but managed to bite it back at the last second, his vocal components whirring and then fading out. He lifted one leg off the chair and tried to pry Scourge away with his knee.

His faceplate lit up hotly as another sweep moved forward. His optics darted fearfully over the Decepticon's faceplate before meeting red optics and widening. He tried to turn his head but the sweep held fast. He shook his head as much as he could in his position and moved his glossa as if to push the probing finger out of his mouth.

Scourge chuckled to himself. He might regret this later, but, the sweep leader mused, Alpha had really been pissing him off the past couple of cycles and so, he deserved it. Without any warning, and the same amount of following pain as with the other armor removals, Scourge popped Hotrod's lower panel armor off quickly with a rough jerk. He watched to see if the autobot would do as he expected and bite the slag out of his alpha sweep. He looked down at Hotrod's most private parts and nodded to himself.

"Huh, you're younger than i thought." he said with a chuckle.

Hotrod's optics flashed white and then powered down as he shouted around the sweep's fingers in pain. He clamped his mouth shut and twisted his head back with all his might, his struggles resuming with full force.

Not like this, he cried hopelessly to himself, Primus not like this! His fans whirred more powerfully as his cooling breath stopped, his core thrumming in confusion. His body was suddenly so prone and bare. He ground his teeth over Alpha's fingers and continue to try and press his legs inward to remove Scourge from his position between them.

All his thoughts of Prime and Kup and Ironhide fled in an instant and his logic chip slipped to the back of his processor as his thoughts remained intimately focused on his exposed self.