"Ow," Brainstorm whines as Spinister tugs the bindings tighter. It actually really aches and where it is digging into his joints hurts.

The way the heli is playing with him has him almost hysterical. He's never felt like this before. Pain didn't compare. He can't concentrate on anything but the maddening throb between his legs, how empty he feels, how much his spike aches from neglect. He feels so hot, and the way Spinister covers him and the light pressure of fingers spreading him open has him feeling-- What can he even compare it to? The frustration of looking forward to something, only to find it gone? Almost.

He'd do anything to feel those thick fingers stretch open his valve lining again. His vents are wide open, pumping out enough hot area the temperature in the room was beginning to steadily rise.

Unfortunately, he's still Brainstorm.

"I-I'm famous!" I mean, surely Spinister has heard of his genius before? Even to the Decepticons his work was well known. Much fewer were aware of his allegiances but he was still the most amazing weapon designer to have lived, and that was selling his talents short. Shouldn't Spin want to tap that?

"Isn't that enough?"

Brainstorm strains trying to wiggle enough to get those fingers inside him, grinding his aft against the huge purple surgeon looming over him.