Sordid Sun

AN: Corrupted Desires mentioned this awhile back. Hope it meets your expectations! Certainly was fun to write. ;)

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He was a tall mech, at least for his frame type. Pristine white plating, with thin pin striping of black and yellow, highlighted his lithe physique. His armor coverings were thin, obviously not used in fighting and roughhousing. His was the light, snug plating that showed definition to a sculpted body built for pleasure. And he had just performed his last service of the cycle, making a femme scream his designation as she overloaded for him and their audience.

His designation was Slickshaft and he was new to the pleasure circuit. The main city states had allowed televised pleasure sessions, ranging from instructive courses. Frame types. What to avoid when interfacing. How to please mechs or femmes. Incorporation of words to prevent damage from an enthusiastic partner. Variations of props and partners. And sometimes, just plain flat out fragging each other senseless.

All for the education and enjoyment of the population.

It was great being paid to frag, and Slickshaft had already made quite the name for himself in the pleasure business.

Not one to prefer mechs, he was the main educator partnering with femmes, providing some of the more highest rated viewing audiences in the history of the educational programming. He displayed a wide variety of techniques, knew every frame type of femme presented, and could teach his audience how to make them tremble with a few short words, or scream their designations when fragged certain ways. He also offered beginner courses, where newly upgraded adults were introduced to the full pleasure their bodies were capable of.

Most of the other educators and entertainers could finish their sessions in a matter of minutes. Slickshaft had a reputation of making it last an hour, sometimes two. It depended on his partner and how involved he was in the scenario.

The 'Pleasure Times' were usually late in the evening, when most bots would wind down, preparing to charge. One merely turned on the communications hub and dozens of partners would appear. All one had to do was touch the performers icon they wish to watch and they could enjoy an a few minutes to an hour watching bots frag. Slickshaft had the highest rating on record and was maintaining his numbers. something the studio and the sponsors found to be greatly appealing. Their revenues were pouring in, and all they had to do was allow the handsome white plated mech his choice of partners. He never approved of the partners they attempted to pair him with. Instead, he chose his own, and much to the studio's relief, Slickshaft possessed wells of knowledge, endless energy, and had an eclectic taste in frame types.

Slickshaft sauntered down the street, knowing every eye was upon him. Who could resist him? He was absolute perfection! He soaked in the admiration and lust like a drug, and in a way, it was. He was so addicted to the lifestyle. He never wanted to give it up.

Femmes swooned, and lined up outside the studio in hopes of being chosen to share a berth with the reputable mech. All the mechs envied him, and a few petitioned to have the handsome mech as a berth partner. They were all disappointed. Slickshaft liked to pick ordinary femmes and elevate them into screaming stardom.

He was generous that way.

The evening was settling, one of Cybertron's moons hanging mournfully in the distance. Normally, Slickshaft wouldn't be out this time of the evening, but his session had to be cut short due to a huge gathering of the upper class who were going to be eating up all the media attention at the Regent's estate. Word had it that even the Prime was going to be in attendance. So all other programming had to be cut short to compensate.

Granted a rare evening free, Slickshaft had a chance to browse the stores while they were still open. That was the only drawback to Slickshaft's unusual employment. Most reputable stores were closed after nightfall.

Media bots began to collect in the distance, where the Regent was going to be holding his gathering of the elite to celebrate a local artist.

Slickshaft was never invited to such fancy gatherings. To invite a 'pleasure educator' into one's home while hosting an elitist event was uncouth, and no one wanted to be labeled something so uncivilized.

The televising station was a few blocks from the main stores that catered to the higher caste. Though Slickshaft had ample credits, his job made him less than acceptable in 'high society.' He entered a shop that sold sweets, and transferring a heft sum, he subspaced a tray of silicon sticks and gelled magnesium. The powered sulfur on an oil cake was his favorite, and a dozen resided in his pocket as he made his exit.

Thinking it was pathetic to return home so early, with all the activity and parties to attend, the white mech decided to check out one of the local merchants. Maybe purchase something extra special, that could grant him higher ratings. Or a polish he could try and then offer to endorse the next time he was performing. There were always avenues in which to exploit.

Just as that thought crossed his processor, a flash of gold caught his optics. The mech's armor shone like a nova, making him a beacon even to those who were not looking. Slickshaft watched as the mech entered a buffing parlor that catered to the exceptionally wealthy.

It took a lot of credits to get waxed and buffed at the small store.

Slickshaft had the credits. With a lot to spare. He covered the distance with his longer stride and entered the shop. A pretty femme in royal plum smiled in welcome from behind a desk.

"Full service is five thousand credits," she intoned, her cheek plates heating as she realized who was standing in front of her. She had many fantasies about the mech who smiled at her behind a deep azure gaze. She felt her knees go weak. She was glad she added a little extra polish this morning.

Slickshaft transferred credits with ease, offering a half smile that didn't reach his optics. Not that the femme noticed. She was starstruck by him. Completely enamored. He could have stuck his glossa out, crossed his optics, and tugged his spike, and she would have thought it was the most alluring and romantic thing she had ever seen.

Slickshaft paid his credits and went to one of the attendants, who bade him to stand on the hydraulic platform. He stood, ignoring everyone around him and pretended to look bored with the whole process. His attendant wiped down his plating with water and soap before toweling him dry. When no beads of moisture remained, the attendant began to apply wax in small, circular motions. It was a thick, heavy substance that had a tang that Slickshaft couldn't place. He tried to glimpse the can's label, but the attendant's servos clutched the can as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It was probably worth his entire salary for a year.

Helm waxed, the attendant picked up a small rotary buffer and started with Slickshaft's smooth, perfectly shaped helm, mindful of his audials. Slickshaft stayed perfectly motionless, allowing the attendant to walk circles around him as he worked, slowly buffing his way down the white plated, agile body.

As the attendant applied his wax to Slickshaft's neck and shoulders, he listened intently to the conversation beside of him.

"Big opening tonight, Stunner," the golden mech said to the mech who was appraising him with a stern look.

Slickshaft knew it was the proprietor of the establishment. He was a walking example of what fine craftsmanship and spark stopping allure should entail.

Stunner's plating was red, with subtle lines of pink and white accenting his body in a very pleasing manner. His fingers were long, tapered, and held a buffer loosely in their grip. Stunner's helm was a retro fashion of ridges, swept back from his face. The middle was more prominent, while smaller ridges accented the sides. His audials were designed in the same swept manner, making him appear elfin. His optic were a bright red to match his paintjob and seemed overly large, yet symmetrical to his design. The mech pulled the look off well. It looked great, especially with his color scheme. He was certainly a knock out.

Stunner spoke with a voice that sounded like rocks in a tumbler, gravely, heavy, rich. His Iaconian accent was barely noticeable.

"Weren't you in here two cycles ago to get your routine buffing?" Stunner asked, sounding annoyed. His ruby optics were looking over the golden armor with intense criticism.

"There is a showing in a couple of hours," the golden mech said in a deep baritone. "I need to look my best."

Slickshaft's attendant continued to polish in little circles along his back and down his right arm, oblivious to the conversation going on beside of him.

"Are you suggesting my work doesn't hold up to elite standards?" Stunner asked, pulling a can of polish from subspace and looking mutinous. The obscured label looked exactly like the one Slickshaft's attendant was holding.

The attendant busied himself buffing Slickshaft's chest, a miniature buffer appearing from his finger and cleaning out the cracks between the white laminate plating. His brow was drawn, concentrating on his job.

"I just want a good buff up," the golden mech said, puffing his golden armor and poising himself in grandiose style as Stunner approached with a specialty buffer. It had an extra thick padded head and spun twice as fast.

"I'll give you a luster to be the envy of even the Prime,' Stunner said and set to work.

When Slickshaft's upper body was pristine and shining like a birthing star, the attendant hit the hydraulic button and made the platform rise, allowing him to apply wax on Slickshaft's lower half.

Stunner was obviously more adept at his job, detailing the golden mech in record time. Though Slickshaft's attendant was good, and his plating did look immaculate, the two artistic polishers finished nearly the same time. Both stood back to admire their work. Full length mirrors popped up from the floor around the dais as it lowered, giving the two mechs a three-sixty view of their bodies and the job done by their buffing attendants.

Slickshaft examined his frame and smiled, finding the luster to be perfect. His plating having never looked so immaculate and stunningly irresistible. Even the multicolored scratches on his body from his partner had been removed, giving him an even, glorious shine that made him look like the heart of a galaxy. It certainly caught the golden mech's attention. His brow ridge arched speculatively as the mirrors lowered and returned to the floor encasements, granting escape.

Slickshaft passed the attendant some credits for a job well done. The attendant blushed, grateful for his tip.

"One last touch," Stunner said, a devilish smirk appearing on his elfish face. He withdrew a silver canister, the label foreign to the bots. He twisted off the top and pulled a large, fluffy brush from subspace. Swirling the swishing brush, he dipped it first in the can, then to the golden mech, making sure to give him an even coat. Every inch was shining as pure liquid metal. When he was finished a luminous, glittery shine adorned the gold.

"It's a form of decorative dust," Stunner informed the impressed golden mech as he surveyed his gorgeous body. No one would be able to resist him. "I believe it's a powdered form of carbon."

Stunner smiled at the attractive mech who was utterly captivating, thanks to his meticulous detailing and hard work.

"Different," the golden mech said, though he didn't sound disappointed. He sounded rather proud to be granted a chance to display something new. And if others liked it, and how could they not when it was dusted on the most beautiful Cybertronian specimen canvas, he could start a new trend.

The golden mech exited the polishing boutique and made his way to a call station for transport. He scanned his ID, deposited credits, and waited for a transport to arrive. A glimmer of white appeared in the corner of his optic. He turned, casting half a smirk to the white mech who had been detailed beside of him. They had made optic contact several times during their polish. When the transport arrived, the golden mech stepped inside.

The transport door remained open in invitation.

The white mech joined the golden, and together they rose high above the city in a skyscraper that was nearly as posh as one of the esteemed Towers. The golden mech keyed in his access code and double doors whooshed back to allow the two bots entrance into the spacious apartment.

The golden mech went to the high grade shimmering on shelves behind a bar. There were an assortment of colors, all registering different additives and potencies. He chose a strong high grade, one usually reserved for seekers, and poured the white plated mech a drink.

Slickshaft took the drink, toasted his gracious host, then down the drink in three swallows.

"Tough day at work?" the golden mech asked. He had noticed the scratches and dings in the white armor before the buffing. Very little details ever escaped his notice.

"Vigorous," Slickshaft admitted with a salacious grin.

"Clean yourself up," the golden mech ordered, jerking his head toward a door.

Slickshaft poured himself another full glass and carried it into the adjoining room. He took another draught, and began his transformation sequence. The high, tapered pedes that gave him added height, receded and folded down on themselves, making his pedes look blocky instead of aesthetically lithe. He shrunk nearly a head shorter than his original height. His optics lightened from deep azure to a pale bluish-green.

There was a changing station in the corner, allowing him to remove his stylish white veneer plating and place it on racks to prevent damage. Piece by piece was removed and placed in a slot, all carefully arranged. He was even thinner when standing there in his bare protoform. He grabbed the extra set of plating and began to change, altering his features by putting on extra padding and the heavier dress of resilient armor plating. Had he been a naturally thin mech, his body wouldn't have been able to washstand the heavier, bulkier armor he dressed in. Latches snapped into place, fittings slid together, mechanisms locked, building the slight mech up into something a little more substantial and stockier. When he was done he stretched, hearing a few hisses and creaks, but nothing that didn't warrant going to the medics. Probably just joint strain from his recent activities.

The last piece to be extracted from his body was his helm. The smooth white helm piece was removed, exposing his cranial protoform beneath. He set it aside on the slot and picked up the heavier, thick armored helm that resembled a helmet and secured it into place.

Admiring himself in the mirror, he gave his reflection a nod of approval and exited to find the golden mech standing in front of the big bay widows that overlooked the city complex below.

"How do I look?"

"Like my brother again,' Sunstreaker replied with a smirk. "Have fun at work?

Sideswipe grinned, knowing his brother had experienced everything he had. That was the secret to his 'extended' success… his brother could broadcast and receive and both used their shared bond in the secret lives they shared. Sideswipe ran a merchant store during the daylight, but come twilight, he donned his alter ego and made his real fortune.

"Think anyone will ever figure it out?" Sunstreaker asked as he returned his gaze to the minute pedestrians below. Even the heavy duty mechs look diminutive from this height.

"So what if they do?" Sideswipe gave a half shrug "It's not like I'm breaking any laws."

"That's a first," Sunstreaker quipped.

"Can you believe Clipper worked on me and didn't even recognize me?" Sideswipe exclaimed.

"You didn't use your real account, did you?"

"I used the company account the pleasure house gives me as an allowance."

"Isn't Stunner's establishment a little too pricy for their budget?"

"I saw the ratings for tonight's show." Sideswipe's smirk was sadistic. "Highest rating ever. And I have two new corporations who want to sponsor the studio."

"As long as they don't put a decal on your aft," Sunstreaker smirked, toasting his brother with the remained of his drink. "Be a shame to cover that rear bumper with something so hideous as a decal."

Sideswipe smirked and wiggled his aft, earning his brother's laughter.

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Yes, "Stunner" was actually Knock Out from TF:Prime. I melded both ideas into one story, meeting Knock Out before the war, and one of the twins is a porn star. ;)