Date: Fri, 8 Jun 2012 23:09:10 +0100 From: Davey R Subject: BlueShark-Video-12 Author's note: This is sheer dumb fantasy, with sex and violence and dark elements. Not cool in real life, and not to be taken seriously. Just something you've channel surfed onto on late night TV. Just to be clear, any movies, actors, television shows, comic books, etc, named are totally fictional. Feedback welcome, good and bad, got quite a few chapters mapped out. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- BlueShark Video 12 As we rejoin the action, it's another Saturday night - or rather the early hours of Sunday - a few weeks later. Chase Phaeder is spending this evening the way he normally spends his weekends - earlier tonight he stripped and danced for a few hours in adjoining nightclubs for men and women. Now, similarly bare chested but with a more substantial pair of denim shorts, we find him in a former meat-packing plant. It's crowded, mostly with baying men, and rigged up with makeshift red lighting. And Chase is fighting, with his bare knuckles and few discernible rules; fighting this blonde, Czech slab of a guy as his supporters in the crowd cheer him on, while those who've bet on the other dude offer their own counter encouragement. It's a furious scene, and Chase has already earned himself some wounds. This bastard with the mohawk is an intimidating-looking opponent; but then, they usually are. Having spent several weeks faced with the unassailable super-strength of the villainous Eclipse, not to mention impotent despite all his strength and skill against the rule of the tiny, skinny Corinth Cardinal, Chase welcomes the straightforward down-to-earth opportunity of a fight against this son of a bitch here. He finds all his buried fury coming to the fore now he has the chance to let it out; only problem is, right now it's making him clumsy, and this guy is using it against him. Witness his lunge of a punch, the guy catching him by the forearm and flinging him around so that he hurtles into the jeering crowd. There's no ring here; no cage or delineated area for the fight. The men in the crowd have to clear aside as best they can as they see Chase stumbling towards them. Even then, he impacts a couple of them in the shins, causing them to fall over painfully; men being men, the others in the crowd laugh at this. "Fuckin go get' im!" one of the guys says to Chase, helping him up by the armpits. Chase spurns this offer of help, which is just getting in the way of his free and easy motion. And then, when he sees this guy Kazimir hurtling towards him, foot extended in a flying dropkick, he ducks aside rapidly and lets the fucker in the crowd get kicked in the face instead of him. The guy cries out angrily, and a whistle blows for a pause in the fight. The whistle only ever blows to let the disarray of the audience settle down. As Chase and his opponent pace about each other, the guy with the newly busted nose stumbles off to a table out of the way with his girlfriend, and the rest take a few cautious steps back, briefly struggling against the bloodlust that has caused them to shuffle in so close to the action. When the whistle blows again, Chase and Kazimir charge at each other and end up in a grappling embrace. A couple of bruised, big meaty torsos clutching against each other. Meanwhile, sat back at his table in an elevated recess, sipping on a strawberry daiquiri, Corinth is enjoying the show. He feels kind of proud of Chase, who he considers to be pretty much his property, and whose successes he feels he deserves some kind of credit for - not that he'd welcome being pushed on the question of exactly why. Devin Trasseno, the alter ego of the bewitched supervillain Eclipse, sits by his side at the table. He's dressed as inconspicuously as possible in a suit and shades, so as to look a conventional bodyguard instead of the hunky harness-clad super-slave he really is. "Whoah man, nice work!" Corinth hisses as he watches Chase negotiate his opponent into a headlock via a sharp punch to the balls. "Now, see, Devin baby, that's the kind of moves you should be taking note of for when we finally catch up with that son of a bitch Blakkout. Trouble with you is, you're too used to just automatically being able to overpower your opponents. But when you take on someone you're evenly matched against, you need to know how to be able to fight dirty. So watch carefully, babe - you can learn a lot from my boy Chase!" "Not about pleasuring you, though, my sweet master?" Devin offers sullenly. Corinth rolls his eyes. "Ugh. This again. No, not about pleasuring me, Devin. Unless you mean the pleasure it'll give me to see that arrogant asshole Blakkout brought down a peg or two. And believe me, I am gonna fuckin' enjoy THAT quite a lot" Caught in his headlock, Kazimir nonetheless manages to move about enough to unbalance Chase, causing the pair of them to fall onto the ground and grapple desperately for supremacy. The winners in these bouts is the one who KOs the other guy, so there are a few attempts by both to smack each other's heads off the hard floor and get it over with quickly. When Kazimir wraps his big strong legs right around Chase's body, Corinth wonders why the hell these things never lead to a good fucking. Looking around the crowd, seeing the dirty thrill on all those mens' faces, he decides that at least half of the dudes here who think they don't want to see these men fucking would abruptly nut themselves were it to really happen. It is Kazimir who finally wins their fight, in what Corinth considers one of the horniest ways possible, battling into a position where he has Chase's head between his thighs from behind and squeezing away until an increasingly desperate Chase claws at his shins and his feet, then grabs uselessly at the floor, legs flailing, until finally he passes out. "Ahh, damn" Corinth says lightly as he sips at his drink. "I guess there's not so much I can learn from him after all, huh master?" Eclipse ventures hopefully. ---------------- The fight over, an ungracious Kazimir spitting on the felled, useless form of a knocked-out Chase Phaeder, the loser is unceremoniously dragged off to somewhere he can recover. As he is pulled along the floor by the legs, a few more of the guys who bet on him during the fight kick and spit on him. A couple of the brutes who manage the practical details of this stuff get Chase to an adjoining room, with a bed frame and a busted, decades-old mattress, plus a table with a bottle of water and a packet of painkillers on it, and leave him to it. There are two exits to the room, and as they head back to the main arena via the one they came in, they lock it behind them. This isn't to keep Chase locked up - he can leave by the other door - but to discourage any of the disgruntled gamblers who may want to make their displeasure violently known. It's surprising how angry some of these guys can get once their appetite for violence has been stirred up. Usually when someone loses a fight here and ends up sleeping it off in this room, they'll stay there pretty much until they wake up, and then leave. That can be any time from an hour after the fight to halfway through Monday. Sometimes they'll have friends here with them who'll be allowed in to help them out. Chase does not usually end up in this room, because he doesn't often lose, and it's rarer still for him to have anyone here for support. Tonight, though, Corinth is with him. Or rather, he is with Corinth. He's been ever-present at the little villain's side for a couple of months now, ever since the superhero Blakkout turned up outside Corinth's pad to chew him out. For some reason, Corinth simply hasn't let him go. Chase hasn't been imprisoned exactly - more the victim of some enforced and indefinite sleepover. He thinks it's probably something to do with Corinth being warned off that Dean Demeter dude, and unable to track him down. He thinks maybe this is some sort of compensating for him. Corinth Cardinal has become much more keen on having Dean in his grip now someone's forbidden him from it. Even this evening, Corinth has allowed Chase his usual Saturday night fisticuffs more as a distraction for himself than out of any concession to Chase's routine. So it's Corinth who is ushered through to the loser's cell via the other entrance, and Corinth who wakes Chase from his slumber with a splash of cold water to the face. "Wakey wakey, babe" Corinth grins, slapping him lightly around the face, careless of his cuts and bruises. Chase flinches and splutters as he comes around. "Fuck..." he groans in shock, and then, eyes focusing on Corinth, chipper little demon that he is, taking in the position in which he finds himself... "Ohhhhh fuck... you're shittin' me... so... I lost?" "That's right" Eclipse says immediately, from the corner of the room. Corinth kisses Chase on his split lips, and strokes the hair at his temple, feeling like a real Florence Nightingale, except more horny than she probably was in these situations. "Fraid so, stud. That guy Kazeer or whatever it was totally put you out with a big fuckin' thigh hold round your neck. I guess you're in no mood for hearing, but it was really freakin' sexy actually?" "He defeated you" Eclipse adds humorlessly. "Yeah, pipe down a little there, huh?" Corinth says. "I am sorry, my master" Eclipse replies quietly. "Goddamn..." Chase snorts, lifting a hand and rubbing at his temple. For all that he has to shed his pride on a regular basis in allowing himself to be used as Corinth's super-ripped boy toy, he's still a proud guy when it comes to his fight record. He rarely gets beaten, and when he does, rarely gives in so easily to defeat that he can't even remember it when he comes round again. But tonight, all he can remember is struggling, and then darkness closing in, just like going to sleep. All this time having to obey Corinth -- it's made him become submissive, he thinks. Maybe in ways he hasn't even realised. And he'd so wanted Corinth to see what a fucking good ass kicking he could dish out - just so the little bastard knew. Corinth starts kissing away at his mouth, and stroking his hair. "Don't sweat it, Chase dude. You're still my little champion, ain't ya?" "Yes master" Chase agress quietly, letting the villainous boy kiss him, smudging his black lipstick against a mouth already darkened with cracks of clotted blood. "Anyway, dude, you never EVER freaking lose when you've got Corinth Cardinal looking out for ya!" Corinth enthuses. Corinth has been super-pally and affectionate with Chase these past weeks. And while that is of course preferable to being cruel and sadistic, Chase has heard enough stories of Corinth doing a total one-eighty with his other boy victims to not get complacent. When Corinth gets totally into a guy, it can switch really easily into intense hatred. "Sit up, man," Corinth enthuses, pawing at him. Aching, head throbbing, Chase does so relucantly but as quickly as he can. Man, his stomach is sore and bruised. He is surprised as he sits up to discover the cause of his bruises, his opponent Kazimir, is sat on his knees in the corner of the room. Right in front of where Eclipse is standing, in fact. The super-hunk is holding Kazimir with a hand around the back of his neck, and Kazimir himself is naked and trembling slightly, his stacked, ripped body all glistening with sweat across every bulge. "See, dude?" Corinth says, getting hold of Chase's chin between his fingers and turning his head about like Chase is too fucking stupid to see what's right in front of his eyes. "I've arranged for this fucker to make it up to you... he might've beaten you in the fight... but now he's gonna get over here on his hands and knees and suck your fuckin' dick - ain't you, you slab of dirt?" Kazimir flinches, eyes darting between Corinth and Chase. "Y-yes" he grunts, his accent thick even in this one syllable. Evidently Eclipse has somehow or other 'persuaded' the fighter to do as he's told. He looks fuckin' freaked out by whatever Eclipse did to demonstrate his power - out-of-towners in Sol Casali often are. It can be alarming, Chase knows, to discover that no amount of strength or skill can protect you from these godlike superbeings. But he's not complaining as a fearful Kazimir shuffles over and tugs down Chase's shorts. Obviously he's been instructed in some of the BJ foreplay Corinth expects of him too, as he kisses and licks at Chase's feet, and up and down his legs, and massages his strong thighs, not even going near his cock for the longest time. When he does go for the cock, it's way chubby, and it doesn't take him long to work it much more so. He's obviously not done this before, but Chase doesn't mind at all - it means he's getting something special here ... and even the lamest attempt at cocksucking still involves getting your cock sucked... Corinth watches Chase's face, studies the flood of pleasure there, throughout the entire thing. But also the snarl of contempt as the stud looks down at the bastard sucking on his dick. Chase looks like he knows he deserves this, like he knows it's right that this stranger should repay him after he suffered the humiliation of defeat. That contemptuous expression of entitlement, of exacting some obscure vengeance, is a new one on the broad face of Chase Phaeder. But we've seen something very like it, many times now, in Corinth Cardinal's twisted smile. ------------------------------------------------- After that, Kazimir sent packing with a surplus of jizz in his belly and his ass, Corinth takes his little posse back home to chill for a while. He and Chase play video games while intermittently throwing a chew toy about the room for the ever-obedient Eclipse to chase after on all fours. If Devin Trasseno resents this more when it's Chase doing the hurling, as opposed to his beloved Corinth, then he manages not to show it. Corinth, for his part, appears not to be taking any particular pleasure in having the mighty hunk creature doing his bidding - most times he fails to glance up from the screen as Eclipse returns the toy to him in his mouth, and often brushes him off irritably as if he really were the slightly irritating old pet dog Corinth has cast him as. He takes the pathetic obedience totally for granted now, with none of the thrill of conquest he'd shown when he first got the gorgeous titan into the mind-controlling harness. It's quite possible that Chase, who is experiencing a quite unexpected tingle in his loins at the sight of the awesome super-guy humiliating himself like this, is actually getting more of a rush from the display of animal obedience than Corinth himself. But then, isn't that the aim of such conquest for Corinth? To make such obedience totally normal, completely routine. both for him and for his slave. Corinth's beetle-browed fixation on the video game, meanwhile - "Shit, man, I'm running low on energy!" - abruptly reminds you to check your own purple credit bar, still blinking softly close to the bottom corner of the screen. Reassuringly, it remains almost completely full. Still just that tiny bit chipped off the end of it, from when you selected this movie option. When Corinth and Chase compete against each other in two-player mode, Chase is careful to always avoid winning, while trying not to do so too obviously. The last thing - hell, perhaps literally - that he needs is for Corinth to turn on a dime and suddenly be angry at him. He'd much rather put up with this best-buddy deal that the little maniac has been adopting with him lately - even though that is terrifying too in its own way. While a reasonable viewer might question what satisfaction there is in winning against an opponent who has deliberately let you do so, we must remember that Corinth is at his twisted heart a brat. An absolutely spoilt child. But also that for him, as for his father, the joy of winning against such an opponent lies in having brought the opponent to the point where he has no choice but to let you win in the first place. Yes. What a fuller, more all-encompassing victory that is. In fact I strongly approve. Oh yes. I'm still here. You're still speaking to Zac Sharkey. Chase's strategy only works a little in keeping him off Corinth's sadism radar. Because once he's lost to Corinth a few times in a row, the little bastard starts teasing and jeering at him about it, and finally suggests that as a forfeit it should now be Chase who scuttles about naked on the floor, chasing after the chew toy. So this is what happens. Chase, with the vision of what Eclipse looked like as he performed this demeaning dance still in his head, finds himself with a coming-and-going erection, which does not go unnoticed by Corinth. "Whoah, now look at that!" he exclaims."I guess you like running round at my beck and call, huh boy?" In a very rare and accidental slip in the subservience that's kept him going until this point, a bewildered and angry looking Chase starts shaking his head. He stops quickly and changes it to a nod, but Corinth seems more pleased with the denial. "Yeah right, dude. The one thing in the world that doesn't lie is a guy's boner. And little Chase there seems to be singing a different song from you" Thus, at length, Corinth is inspired to fuck Chase one last time for the night, easily balanced on and supported by the breadth of his obedient stud's sweet, hot back, before he decides it's bedtime. The sun has already been out for a couple of hours by this point, and Eclipse has started to wilt into his regular Devin Trasseno body - which would still be pretty damn fine if you hadn't experienced him in his perfected power-pumped form. As on previous nights, it amuses Corinth to have the pair sleep together, in a guest room, in a narrow single bed. Drained of his powers, Devin can't keep Chase under control in the same intimidating way, but Chase will stay obedient if he knows what's good for him. So far, Chase and Devin have not fought or fucked, or anything else that it would amuse Corinth to discover in the morning. But it's early days, he figures. He wonders if Chase has ever tried to remove the harness from Eclipse. He can wonder this safely as he knows the supernatural piece of blue metal pretty much welds shut once locked. But an Eclipse restored to his own mind would be a lethal threat to Corinth, and it must have flashed across Chase's mind that he could use this to his advantage - perhaps even be liberated permanently from Corinth's tyranny. Oh yeah. Just let him try. It'd be as much a foregone conclusion as the video game. And Corinth would have no choice but to punish such mutiny. -------------------------- Corinth has only been asleep a couple of hours when his goddamn phone starts going off. He reaches over automatically to hit the snooze or whatever, but a few seconds later it starts bleeping urgently away again, and this time when he taps at the button to snub the call, it has no effect. The reason for this quickly becomes clear, when a little green hologram pops out from the phone screen - the face of Corinth's father. And then the tinny but irritatingly loud sound of his voice vibrating through the phone's speaker. "Corinth!" his dad barks. "Corinth! Wake up right now, you indolent invert!" Eyes barely open, Corinth starts smacking at the prone surface of the phone with the palm of his hand, briefly extinguishing the hologram as he continues his effort to go back to sleep. It's to no avail, as his dad had the phone fitted with an override for situations just like this. The hologram swells, the voice gets even louder. "Corinth!" he repeats, "Wake up! This is important. You have to get over here to my office right now!" 'Office'? thinks Corinth. At this time on a Saturday night? Or Sunday morning, whatever it is. What the hell's the point of being a criminal overlord if you're still putting in those kinds of hours? "Fuck's sake, pop..." Corinth moans. "Corinth! We've finally captured Blakkout. I need you to get over here right away to establish control over the ridiculous lunk. Get out to the helipad, Maurice will be there shortly" At this, Corinth sits bolt upright. Blakkout. Yes! That up-himself asshole. Plus finally being able to find where he's hidden Dean Demeter. He gets up and dresses quickly, leaving his face all smudged with last night's makeup and hurrying to rouse his two sluts. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Now, this development may come as somewhat of an anticlimax to Corinth - and at this time of day, a pretty damn irritating one too. But the capture of Blakkout by Mortimus Cardinal has not been achieved easily. You and I have been watching the deleted scenes, the collected horny adventures of Corinth Cardinal. But in the movie that you remember seeing in the 90s, there was around this point a sequence of spectacular, if not outright gaudy, struggles between the bewitched Eclipse and his quarry, the heroic Blakkout. An ambush in the Nevada desert, an icy tussle in the South Pole, a destructive rampage through a Cardinal-owned research station on the moon. All very spectacular; Eclipse attempting to gain an advantage over Blakkout long enough to get the second enchanted harness about him; Blakkout struggling to rip the first harness away from Eclipse's body, where it has been incorporated seamlessly into his supervillain costume, but finding it oddly impervious to his efforts. To the very great relief of Mortimus Cardinal, the enchantments of Nephthys fulfil their promise, rendering the blue metal garment quite unyielding to super-powered assault. The battle is won, in the end, not as the result of a spectacular struggle between the two titans, but thanks to low-down sneakiness on the part of Mortimus Cardinal and Eclipse. Because super-powered dolts and uber-criminal overlords both favour the overblown and spectacular over the straightforward and practical, it took Mortimus longer than it should have done to hit upon the solution. But finally he got there. Eclipse was sent to do battle with Blakkout once again, the same hand-to-hand grappling between two spandex-clad hunks that made parts of the original movie such an illicit pleasure to watch. But this time the struggle in a busy city shopping precinct was a ruse; at Mortimus's instruction, Eclipse 'lost' the fight and sloped off in apparent defeat. Then, sneaking out from his hiding place he trailed Blakkout, simply followed him at a distance. It is easy enough for Blakkout to maintain his secret identity as Professor Chuck Felix under normal circumstances - he is simply too fast for any mere mortal to keep up with, so if he wants to effect a change of clothes unnoticed, it isn't difficult for him. With a surreptitious Eclipse on his tail, however, the discovery of his dual identity is achieved with embarassing ease. And with that information in hand, all that remains is for Mortimus Cardinal to wait until the daylight hours, when the superhero's powers have waned completely, and send a pack of his thugs to overpower him the old fashioned way. This also has the convenient effect of removing Eclipse from an important stage of Mortimus's plot - and thus removing Mortimus's reliance on his capricious son to pass along the orders. And what piquant delight it adds too, what pleasure for Mortimus to catch the posturing hero at his most vulnerable moment. None of his super-powered swagger as, in his mild-mannered college professor guise, he is overwhelmed by hoodlums, and clobbered. How reassuring for the arch villain that these unassailable demigods - these flashy monsters that plague his reign of Sol Casali - can ultimately be defeated like any other nuisance, by simple force. And now he is another step closer to conquering the Mighty Sun Surfer. One more barrier to that goon's destruction has been torn away like wet toilet paper. Mortimus is feeling pretty damn pleased with himself this Sunday morning, having taken delivery of the trussed-up and unconscious Professor Felix. The professor having had his shirt removed for the purpose of locking the harness around him, and wearing some rather small blue shorts because he was out running at the time of his ambush, Mortimus guesses his homosexually ravenous son will be pleased with this prize too. Sadly, he has to get Corinth involved at this point. As Corinth was the mortal who made the bargain with the deity Nephthys, he is the only one who can command the slave in his harness. This is much to Mortimus's chagrin, and he's had his team working frantically on a solution. But in the meantime he must work around his son's irritating involvement. So he makes the call, hoping that at this hour Corinth might at least be groggy enough not to cause him too many problems. ------------------------------------------------------------------- This hope starts to look misguided pretty quickly, because as it happens Corinth has drugs lying around his apartment like candy in jars, ready for whatever state of consciousness he needs to achieve. By the time he arrives at Mortimus's office, his faggot entourage of enslaved superhero and somewhat battered dancer boy in tow, the boy is wide awake, and is in fact "buzzing", or whatever term the younger generation now use. Mortimus shakes his head, wondering what the best way will be to deal with that generation once he is unquestioned dictator of the entire world. Corinth's reaction is way less grouchy. His eyes light up when he sees the ripped Professor Chuck Felix strapped into the chair, blue harness gleaming about his pecs. This big buff black guy all shining with the promise of the same total obedience he has enjoyed from Eclipse. He skips over, laying an appraising hand on Chuck Felix's thick shoulder, all bunched from his arms being cuffed at the back of the chair. An appreciative stroke turns into a sustained grope of his arm, and then Corinth feels his way up the dude's neck and around his cleanly shaved head, which offers only the slightest friction suggesting the growth of stubble there. "I can't grab him by the hair" Corinth considers thoughtfully. Mortimus snorts. "Showing your usual keen sense of priorities, then." Corinth ignores him, leaning in and taking a sniff. Gotta know what his body smells like. "Mmm, nice. Musky," Corinth nods, "Manly. I like that" Curious words from the androgynous Corinth in his fishnet vest, you might think, but he tends to favor jock boys, even way grown-up ones like this. "So how long has he been out?" Corinth asks, turning to his dad almost with a professional attitude to their task. "About an hour and a half" Mortimus replies, looking distractedly at the young man and the enslaved superhero Corinth has brought here with him. Both standing awkwardly and under-clad in the corner. "Ah, son, I can't help but feel your catamite here counts as something of a witness... ?" Chase shifts awkwardly, looking between the two Cardinals. Corinth shrugs. "Don't sweat it, dad. I'll vouch for Chase" "Oh well then, I'm not worried" Mortimus tsks, still looking at the striking-looking young man as if weighing up some terminal solution to him. "Hour and a half, huh?" Corinth continues obliviously, "I think he's had enough rest then. Shall we get this show on the road?" "Sure thing, my lad" Mortimus nods, reaching over for his desk and lifting up the heavy jug of ice cold water. "I guess you'd like to do this part?" Corinth takes the jug eagerly. It's notable that where his majestically-built dad holds out the big jug with ease, handle in one hand, Corinth takes hold of it with both hands, and visibly sags under its weight. "He always loved doing this as a kid," Mortimus muses to no-one in particular, looking a little proud for once. And indeed, Corinth does react to being handed the jug like he's a child being allowed to lick the spoon. He takes aim, getting to grips with the weight, then tosses the icy contents of the pitcher over the Professor's head. Chuck Felix awakes with a start and a gasp. "Professor Felix," Mortimus trills, with the air of delivering a well rehearsed line, "It appears you ... blacked out." Corinth groans. "Uhh. Yeah, good one, dad. Maybe better if you saved it til he'd properly woke up." "Don't undermine me, boy. Anyway, he is awake" "Are you kidding? Look at him, he barely knows where he is. He needs a little slapping, yeah?" Having pointed this out, Corinth delightedly starts smacking Chuck's face back and forth between his hands. "Hey, bitch! Wakey wakey, man! Sunday morning, you're late for church. Don't wanna go to hell, do ya bitch?" In the middle of this, Corinth pauses, turns back to his father. "Plus, dad, I get that Blakkout is, like, his name and stuff -- but with an old guy like you saying it, your little joke thing sounds kinda racist" Mortimus bridles. "I assure you, my lad, I hold all of humanity in equal contempt. Except for the Mighty Sun Surfer of course, who I despise almost transcendentally" Thus reassured, Corinth goes back to slapping the bastard. "I said wakey wakey, Professor Douchebag. What are you a professor of - fuckin' snoozing?" A groggy Professor Felix starts around more attentively. His eyes have been open for a few moments, but it's only now that he appears to be coming out of his slumber. "Mortimus Cardinal," he says levelly, in a deep and authoritative voice. The familiar tones of Blakkout, not at all different coming from his daytime persona. "Of course," Mortimus nods, "You were expecting someone else? One of your lesser adversaries, perhaps?" "There's no-one I hold in lesser regard than yourself, Mr Cardinal, you can rest assured of that -" He looks over to Eclipse. " - and I see one of the more challenging of my enemies is neutered and in your employ. No, this is quite unsurprising from you. A typically cowardly way of going about things, sending your pack of goons to ambush me when I'm least capable of doing anything about it. That fits." "Cowardice, Mr Felix?" Mortimus replies, swelling up as he verbally demotes the professor, "One man's idea of cowardice may differ from another's. After all, you swan around the city by night, all pumped up by your unnatural powers and bullying hard-working entrepreneurs like myself. Men who have worked hard to achieve something, to make something of themselves without the shortcuts of your outlandish gifts. "And you defeat them by cheating, by reliance on those absurd, obscene powers you possess, powers that no mortal on Earth can rival - except for the truly exceptional like me, who fight back. Yes, you bully the mere mortals who dare imagine greater lives for themselves. As much a coward as any oversized bully in a school playground." Corinth laughs, pointing a finger in Chuck Felix's face. "Hahaa! Oh man, he's got you there! BURNED!" The professor scowls at Corinth. "You disgusting little pervert. I..." "Oh, by the way, I'm your master now. Your absolute ruler. You got that, Profucker Felix?" "...Yes" Chuck replies, without missing a beat. "Yes, of course you are. I forgot that..." "And you fucking adore and worship me, don't you?" "Absolutely, my master. So much" He is suddenly looking at Corinth with woozy, dreamy eyes. Mortimus claps his hands together. "Excellent, my boy! This is excellent news. Look at them - Blakkout here and Eclipse, both of them here under our - under your control. In their lesser forms now, but as soon as night begins to close in, we shall have two devastating weapons at our command. Weapons of mass destruction ready to lay waste to the Mighty Sun Surfer at last" Corinth folds his scrawny arms, nodding. "Plus I get to wail on this dude a little for thinking he can hide one of my fuckin' boy toys from me. Not to mention finding out where he actually put the little fucker" Mortimus nods irritably. "Ah, yes, yes. This.... Nathan Lusher was the name, wasn't it" Corinth blinks, looking genuinely taken aback for a second like an infatuated schoolgirl going weak at the knees at the mention of his crush's name. "No, dad. No... Nate Lusher's dead. Thanks to you. Putting me in the position where I had to give him to that Nephryss thing..." "Mmm, of course. The one you keep whining about" Mortimus says these words with a little twinkle in his eye, like there's something that he knows and is holding back. Corinth gives him a quizzical look, resumes his train of thought: "No, I was talking about Dean. I get to drag that Dean Demeter back out of his hiding place, show him there's no escaping from Corinth Cardinal." He turns to Professor Felix. "You got that, man?" "Of course, master. You can have the jerk. I don't even know why I ever hid him from you. I guess ... maybe I was trying to get your attention?" Corinth chuckles. "Ha! Yeah, I like that, dude. That kind of works!" He turns to his dad. "It's like this harness thing re-writes his thoughts for him. Puts a whole new slant on his backstory. Like superhero slash fiction, but way into the dude's mind" "Superhero what fiction?" "Slash fiction" "What?" "Slash fiction. Oh look, never mind. It's like there's some inbuilt, er, plausifier, makes him think he's been mine all along without knowing it" The professor looks a little pained. "But I have been yours all along, master Corinth..." "You see?" Corinth grins. Mortimus isn't interested. It all sounds like Commie talk to him. "Just so long as he does what we - what you tell him from now on, my lad, that's all I care about. Now, I say we strike while the iron's hot. Don't give it time for word of this to get out -" he glances menacingly at Chase again - "And for the Surfer to get wind of it. For one big dumbass piece of meat he can be quite wily when back into a corner." It always amuses Corinth to watch his dad's reluctance to admit any of the superhero's good qualities. Smothering them as best he can with insults even as he does it. "Oh, so you're not giving me a month to 'play' this time?" Corinth challenges. Mortimus tried to do his impersonation of a reasonable man: "Well, Corinth, when you consider what happened last time..." "Ugh, Jeeesus, don't start with the calling me 'Corinth' stuff. In fact, you can cut out the spiel altogether. Way I see it, the sooner we get your Mighty Sun Surfer all taken care of, the sooner I get to keep this two bastards all to myself. Yeah?" "Exactly, son. Exactly!" Mortimus enthuses, though in fact he is already making plans and backup plans for these creatures just as soon as he can wrest them from Corinth's influence. "Cool. Then for once it looks like we're thinking the same thing, pop. Come sundown, we send the demonic duo here out to ambush your golden goober. They catch him just after sunset, it'll be right about the time when his powers are wearing off and theirs are really getting going. They get him into a position where he can't get away and he doesn't stand -" "- A chance!" Mortimus agrees, full of malignant swagger. Corinth's beaming grin widens. "And that gives me a full afternoon to get acquainted with the professor here. Know what I'm saying?" Mortimus deflates a tad. His son has a lamentable one-track mind. "Very well, son" he agrees. "Take him back to your apartment, though. I won't have my offices end up clammy with the funk of your deviant man orgies." "Whoah dad, cut it out. You're making me get an erection." Mortimus ignores this. "Just get it all out of your system by five o clock this afternoon. The most urgent of your lurid desires at any rate" "Yada yada. Thing is, dad, these 'lurid desires' of mine are a bottomless fuckin' well." "And there'll be plenty of time to pursue them later. Just have them both ready to take some simple instructions at five. After the Surfer is out of the way, anything you want to do with these... bewitched beefcakes is fine by me" This is not true. Mortimus intends to keep a tight rein on these potential liabilities. If he can't figure out a way to use them to further his campaign to become dictator of this multitropolis, he will certainly see them destroyed too. In their daytime mortal form, neither they nor Corinth can stop him. Corinth half-suspects this, but casually, and doesn't bother to think about it for the moment. He's got his lurid desires to attend to for now, after all. Bewitched beefcakes! Makes Corinth laugh - his dad sure sounds homo sometimes. ---------------- The instant his son has left his office, Mortimus heads straight back to his desk and activates the button that unfolds his supercomputer from his its various hidden compartments. A series of multijointed metal arms reach out from the walls, the floor and compartments of his desk to place a visor over his eyes, super-sensitive cyber gloves over his hands, the hi-tech equivalent of a gas and a brake pedal at his feet. It's a set up that lets him speed through the Cardinal Network's information superhighway in the most intuitive way possible. Like an old guy driving. He heads straight for the niche in this informational morass where he has stored the details of his wayward son's most recent infatuation. Here is image after image, rendered, into a 3D that the Mortimus avatar can float around and inspect, of the late linebacker Nathan Lusher. This Lusher kid, this athlete who died too young, is Corinth's Achilles' Heel. Mortimus knows he can exploit this to his advantage if only he finds the right means and the right moment. He has found the means already, in these intervening weeks. Now it is only the moment that he seeks. The Lusher boy, Mortimus has to admit was a good-looking strapping lad; the kind of son he'd expected Corinth to grow into, until events confounded him. The young man's physical frame is extrapolated by the computer into a virtual grid, all glowing green lines and digital clusters. Mortimus uses this to execute one final search through the marketplace. A secret marketplace, this. A network exclusive to Corinth and his associates, where men like him can buy and sell in privacy. The digiscape renders it around him as a beautiful, stark ocean, shoals of minor players glitter around far away, and in its very distant depths move all the really big players, the monsters and the predators. Rendered in vivid, more-real-than-real color; slow imperious movement; enormous avatars of RedSharks and GreenSharks, GoldSharks and blue. But these hover majestically in an out-of-focus background as Mortimus concentrates on his task. The 3D reproduction of "Nate" Lusher, as the boy was known to his friends, is checked and cross-checked against a quickfire array of available models. Again and again, as he retries and refreshes this search, the klaxon sounds for only one match above the 95% level. Mortimus selects this model. Adds it to his shopping basket. The computer creates a surreal image of this young man, this JORDON LUNAR, sat cross-legged inside a hyperreal reproduction of a mundane grocery store basket. Just waiting. ---- When Corinth gets back home to his penthouse, it's straight down to business. Actually, he first gets Professor Felix and Devin Trasseno stripped down to their underwear and has them cook up some bacon and eggs for him and Chase. He figures he needs some protein first, after that rude start to his day. The super hunks feed him and Chase their meals, the old-hat hunk Devin attending to Chase while all-new whoreboy Chuck kneels next to Corinth, cutting up the bacon, scooping the scrambled eggs onto a fork, raising the fork to the youngster's mouth. In truth, this is a much trickier way to eat than simply doing all this for himself, but Corinth decides it's worth it for the symbolic value. The superdudes then feed on the leftovers and gristly bits, both on hands and knees at the same plate on the floor, like fuckin' dogs, man. Their butts stick out as they do so, and Corinth announces that Professor Felix definitely has the best ass of the pair. At nighttime, when their powers start flooding through their bodies and pumping up their muscles, there's probably little difference between them. But in ther mortal form, Chuck is definitely the most buff and toned. His ripples have freaking ripples. There's a whole stack of raw eggs left that Corinth guesses that housekeeper of his brings in for him. He and Chase sit side by side on a sofa with the bowl between them and start hurling the eggs at the slaves' asses. Corinth says first one to hit a bullseye three times is the winner, and gets the first blowjob from Professor Felix. Chase plays it safe and makes it look like he's trying to hit while not actually doing so.He gets two bullseyes, then resolutely avoids making a third, even while Corinth's throws go way wide of their target. In fact, Corinth is so hopeless a shot that Chase starts to think he's doing this deliberately, making Chase's reluctance to hit his final bullseye all the more obvious. Finally, though, Corinth pelts the last of his three eggs - and the final one in the basket - into the Professor's ass crack. "Your underpants are totally sticky now," Corinth says. "Take 'em off, boys, and lick each others asses clean" Obediently, the men peel of their eggy briefs and wrap themselves around each other in an awkward version of a 69 position, reaching around each other as best they can and lapping up the runny raw egg from each other's bare glistening buttocks. Corinth lets them do this til the egg is totally licked away and their asses are sleekly shiny with each others' saliva. Then he has them go further and start tonguing each other's buttholes as good as they can. As the hunks contort around each other, they end up wriggling and propelled about the floor like some multi-limbed creature. This lasts until Corinth decides he wants Blakkout all to himself. "A little one on one time now, my little sluttybabes!" he tells Devin and Chase. "You two watch some movies or something. The porn library's in there, maybe it'll give you's some ideas about other ways you can pass the time" Devin shakes his head vigorously. "He disgusts me, master Corinth. I only wanted to be made love to by you." "Mm-hm" Corinth says, bored of this stream of sycophancy. "Tell you what, Chase, why don't you practise some of your fight moves on Devin here too. See if you can get some of yer mojo back. Remember when you got the upper hand of that huge dude Tor Dredger with that amazing high kick? I wanna see them days back. Devin, you let Chase do anything he likes to you, right? I don't want you fighting back --- even if there's no way you could beat my Chase without your dumbass powers to help you. You're his fuckin' play dummy until I say otherwise, okay?" "Yes master Corinth, thank you" Devin agrees contentedly. Corinth winks at Chase. "There ya go, babe. Just remember he's got to be in one piece for when he goes after the Golden Sunny Surfer jerk tonight" ------------------------ For the next few hours, Corinth is in man heaven. A stripped bare Chuck Felix lays prone on his bed, and the first thing Corinth does is to get all over his body, licking and smelling it. Het gets kind of high on the stinky man musk of his pits, likes the prickles of his jaw stubble against his tongue, followed by the waxy-clean smoothness of his closely shaven skull. Corinth rubs the underside of his big erect cock against that skull, and that stubble, and then as Chuck's dick gets inevitably, enormously hard under the attentions of his skinny little new master, Corinth gets both their dicks together in his hand, squeezing them against each other and stroking them up and down their thick monster shafts. Corinth has an unbroken record of never having his fun with any guy who has a bigger cock than him. It's his proud, smug boast that no-one has a bigger, fucking freakier cock than him. He thinks it's down to some hormones his dad's scientist guys popped into his mom during pregnancy. Mortimus has always denied this, says it's a family trait. But Chucky boy here comes as close as any guy ever has to equalling Corinth's sheer length and thickness of cock. Just a half inch shorter, maybe. "Man, when I take a hold of most guy's cocks it's like grabbing onto a little baby finger compared to when I hold my own. You, Professor Hot Ass, could join my special monster cock club -- if you were just a little, tiny bit bigger that is ... oh yeah, you like it when I give it a tug though, huh? All hot and hard and squeezed against mine?" "Uunnnnnhh... ohhh fuck yeah, master" ... and then Chuck likes it even better when Corinth continues to jack off both their cocks while using his free hand to work a vibrating dildo up inside the professor's asshole. "Mmmm, tight ... first time for you, huh? You never had a dick up your ass before? You and that Sun Surfer guy never got curious? Never relaxed after some big superhero team-up by shoving stuff up each other's asses?" "nnnnn...unnngh... no master .... I've been saving it up for you" Even though this is a rectal retcon, Corinth assumes the kernel of truth is there - no man-on-man actions between these hot superheroes. Even though you'd think the only reason they wear those supergay skintight bitchass costumes is to fucking get each other hot. "Fuck, you dudes are boring. First the pec pack, not realising how much fun they could be having together, now this - buff superdudes totally failing to do what comes naturally. Lucky you've got me to prise you open to new experiences, ain't it... ya big jackass... feel that going into your hot, sweet mancunt? Yeah, professor Felix, it's me who's teaching the lesson here!" And of course that gives Corinth the idea of caning the professor's super sick ass. Naturally he has a rod lying around for just this purpose. He beats on Chuck's ass while the professor holds the dildo tight up his sphincter, and the all-new new man whore goes wild with excitement at the combination of painful and pleasurable sensations. Corinth doesn't go easy on whacking the fuck outta that beefy man ass, either - he still remembers how peeved he was when this jerk turned up at his apartment thinking he could tell him what to do. "You've been a naughty boy, ain't you, Professor Felix?" WHACK! "Especially hiding that cute Dean Demeter dude from me..." WHACK! "But you're gonna make up for that, ain't you?" WHACK! "Once we get tonight over with -" SMASH! "-you're gonna hand that fruit over to me like an apple over to the teacher. Aren't you?" SMASH!!! "It'll be... unnnnnnfffff... uuuuhhhhmy pleasure, m-master Corinth..." agrees the professor, his ass throbbing just like his mighty and totally enslaved cock. "Do what you like with him..." "Cool," Corinth nods, "Glad you agree. You want to be a totally good boy, though, you keep that asshole of yours wide open for me now, right?" Chuck agrees, digging his fingers in his own wicked sore buttocks to allow Corinth's cock its entry. With Chuck making it so sluttily easy for him, Corinth has a great time pounding that asshole with his cock from every angle he can manage, savagely fondling the muscles of his big strong athletic body, unable to ever get enough. In his superhero outfit, Blakkout always seemed to just blend in with the rest of this city's blight of superheroes. Now Corinth's got him out of the costume, has a chance to see that those muscles don't just peel off with the spandex, he finds the professor to be a delicious and unexpected treat. Makes him think he needs to send out for more random guys instead of sticking with his usual collection. Hot as Chase and Devin are ... this feels fresh ... and this spunk ... ...this spunk pouring out of him, like a geyser, and into Chuck Felix's asshole, plus dribbling down his presently upside-down back... ... feels like spunk from a whole other place, a whole new flavor of lust. ---- Time goes by without Corinth noticing. And so when there is a knock on his bedroom door, he yells out "Don't bother me now, Chase", and then finds his goddamn dad barging into the room like he owns the place. Mortimus tsks mildly as he finds the naked, spunk-sticky Professor Felix on the floor on all fours, and his incredibly small and pale son crouched on his bony haunches behind him. Corinth's arm, slick with KY, is jammed right up to the elbow in Felix's ass. "Can we get this over with, son? Night is starting to fall, we must be ready." For emphasis, Mortimus holds out Chuck's very small-looking and neatly folded superhero outfit. "Boy, dad, can't a guy do a little fisting in peace?" Corinth grunts, his face flush with orgasmic pleasure at the feeling of being so deep inside this man. He slides his arm out with a slurp and cheekily wipes it on the proferred spandex outfit like it's a cum rag. His dad just shakes his head wearily at this. "Didn't even know you'd arrived, pop" "Neither did your catamite boy out there, son. I found him dicking around holding our other super-powered marionette in a headlock. Would you mind if we got our money's worth out of them before ruining them the way you always did your action figures? And classmates?" "Don't be so melodramatic, pop. They're supposed to be fucking tough guys, I'm sure they can cope." Chuck is left panting on the floor, but Mortimus is right - his nocturnal powers are starting to flood into him. This allows him a surprisingly quick recovery from being fucked to shit over the last few hours. Which makes Corinth frown a little. He prefers the feeling of having wrecked a guy. ------------ Mortimus has brought one of his henchmen along, the tall manservanty looking one, who hands him a replacement Blakkout outfit from a briefcase. "They found a whole bunch of these in Professor Felix's apartment," Mortimus explains, discarding the messed up one in Corinth's laundry basket, even though there is more dirty laundry scattered around the floor in here than in the places it's meant to go. They watch as Blakkout gets dressed. Man, what a fine looking guy, Corinth thinks again. Devin Trasseno inflates into his super-muscles too, Adonis-like and ready to squeeze into his own costume. Mortimus watches in admiration, but of a less lustful type than Corinth's. "A magnificent sight, don't you agree, son?" "I sure do," Corinth smirks. "I mean, the vision of these two creatures in those harnesses - both of them our chattel; assets of the Cardinal criminal empire" "Assets. I'll say" "Have them stand to attention, son. Relay on these instruction." Despite all the hi-tech gizmoes at his disposal, Mortimus hands Corinth the instructions for these soldiers on a crumpled piece of paper. Corith unfolds it: "Blakkout and Eclipse. Today we stand together united in one grand purpose. In the past we ... oh jeez, dad, blah blah blah ... blab blab blab..." He skim reads down, then crumples up the piece of paper. "Listen, you pair of horny assholes. You're both soooo in love with me, yeah? You'd do anything to please me?" Resplendent in their black and blue outfits, the metal harnesses incorporated like they're a deliberate part of the design, the men nod their eager agreement. One of them gets the idea to kneel to show his submission all the more, then in a flash, the other joins in. "Then you can do this for me: work together to ambush and fucking wipe out the Mighty Sun Surfer. At six o clock, forty minutes from now, my dad will lure him to a hostage situation at the Sol Casali Central Water Power Station -" "Goddaamn green activists" the elder Cardinal grumbles. " - and you'll pounce on him there. The hostage sitch is just a ruse, so don't get involved in that. Just clobber that Surfer dude, by any means necessary. Um... my dad's note did specify that if it comes to a situation where you might have to sacifice yourself either of yourselves to achieve your purpose, we're cool with that. And you will be too. Got it?" "Yes, master Corinth" they chorus humbly and without hesitation. Mortimus, hands held officiously behind his back, approves. "Perfect, son. The perfect weapons" Corinth goes on: "When you're done, report back here." "And bring me his head, if at all possible." Corinth tuts. "Like my pop here says, bring back his head if you can." Perhaps Mortimus catches the horrified look on the face of a cowering Chase, who is trying his damnest to be invisible as this exchange goes on. "I dislike ambiguity" Mortimus explains mildly. Corinth agrees. "There have been a lot of APPARENT deaths of super-power freaks in this city that they've come straight back from a month later. Okay dudes, time is of the essence. Go get 'em!" ------------------ Mortimus declines to wait here with Chase and Corinth, each of them in nothing more than their undergarments, and showing no sign of any intention to change that. "It'll take the chopper back to my office so I can observe this ambush on the surveillance net. The live annihilation of the Mighty Sun Surfer is not something I want to miss!" Mortimus says it like a kid in a candy store. "And frankly, son, I don't want your stream of sarcastic witterings spoiling the moment" "Yeah, well you can send me a video of the edited highlights later, huh dad. I always prefer the dull bits cut out." ---------- Corinth puts some music on and chills out with Chase. Listening to death metal, head resting on Chase's big broad chest and an arm around his big hunky guy, he feels kind of content. Wonders what he's going to do about Chase in the long run. As his head rests there, he notices that Chase's heart does not thud in the normal way, in mortal fear. It's like Chase has got used to being here too. "Hey, don't you worry about my pop" Corinth says, turning the music down, "He's got this thing about 'witnesses'. But I won't let him touch ya." Chase does not look totally reassured. He mutters "thank you" but is unable to stop a glaze going over his eyes. Corinth's words just raise all the questions he's been trying to blot out of his head from day to day to get through each moment. What the hell does this little bastard have in store for him, once all this is over? Is he ever going to have his freedom again? He daren't even ask. He just lets Corinth kiss him, all tenderly and lazily, for ages and ages. It isn't long before Corinth's huge cock is stirring into life again, even after his afternoon's frolicking with Professor Felix. But just as things are getting going, the doors to Corinth's private elevator start making a strange noise - a hissing, vibrating sound. A curious Corinth peers over Chase's shoulder at them, not impressed by whatever is causing this development. No-one but him should be able to operate that elevator, let alone cause it to make that curious rattling sound. It's fitted with something he remembers his father calling a 'gene lock'. If anyone but him tries to take a ride in that capsule, it transforms into a death trap on pulleys. Nevertheless. There appears to very definitely be someone inside it. Smoke is starting to appear in the join where the doors meet. The metal edges are quickly becoming molten. Has someone tried to use the elevator? Are these its defence mechanisms in action? It hasn't happened before, so Corinth isn't sure. Surely the damn thing shouldn't come all the way up to this floor before its starts disposing of the transgressive occupant. Nor should there be much collateral damage to the rest of the thing. Corinth ushers Chase aside, scuttles over to crouch down behind a tall armchair. Whatever is going on here doesn't seem right. The vibrating increases quickly to a roar, and erupts into an explosion. Corinth and Chase hide as the doors melt to bits, debris flying across the room. The a/c kicks into action to remove the smoke - thank fuck something in here is working the way it should, thinks Corinth - and he peers out from behind the chair, hoping still that this is indeed some mishap of the elevator's defences and that he will see nothing within but the charred skeleton of some would-be intruder. Instead, someone steps out of the smoke, looking very much alive. Worse, it's someone carrying one motherfucking big gun. The only good things to be said for this gruesome intrusion is that it is plenty colorful. The intruder is wearing some kind of full-length body suit in a bright orange, with goggles to match. It's not quite the skintight lycra spandex so common to would-be heroes and villains around these parts, but definitely appears to be some kind of flashy outfit. And the gun. Bulging and glisteningly metallic, reflective as a mirror, the body of it is a bright red, and its various power cells and twinking lights are picked out in a starkly contrasting green. Corinth recognises these as the military colours of the Celestica Skourge - that alien invasion force from a couple of years ago. His dad and the Surfer had been forced to dramatically put aside their differences to repel that squadron of extraterrestrial villains. And then of course, his dad had attempted a last-minute betrayal of the Surfer and, typically, failed - but that's by the by. Clearly, this weapon is one of theirs, left over from that episode. A lethal, impressive, primary colored ray gun. Peeved and scared, Corinth is also a bit jealous. "Do not move one muscle, you evil son of a bitch!" warns the intruder, aiming the weapon squarely at Corinth. Corinth raises his hands a little like they do in movies, but then they sort of waver and go back to his sides. He finds it's a pretty awkward position to hold, especially for a guy who takes as little exercise as possible. Except around the hips when he's porking people. As the intruder removes his goggles, throwing them aside, Corinth recognises him as Dean Demeter. "Aw, shit." says Corinth. "Yeah, you got that right," snarls Dean. "I guess you didn't realise who your were messing with when you decided you could snare me in your... your dirty sex games." He gestures to Chase, who is still on his knees, half peering out from behind a chaise longue. "And I see you've still got this guy caught in your evil spiderweb. Well, hang in there, Chase man, I'm going to rescue you from this bastard too." "What the fuck." Corinth snaps, shaking his head and fluttering his eyelids in confusion. "Since when are you the big hero guy? Where'd you get that-" Dean shoves the huge gun in Corinth's chest. "Shut up, man, you ain't in charge here now, not any more. You just ... just sit down there, for now. I want you to stay where I can see you." Corinth looks at the shaft of the weapon, at Chase, sits himself down. "And since you ask," says Dean, eyes darting about nervously but then settling intently back on Corinth, "I got this weapon from the private store of Blakkout himself... that's one of the benefits of being his partner!" "Huh?" Corinth queries. "You're his boyfriend?" Dean's temper flares up. Corinth notices the way the gun is trembling in his hands. Shit. Probably makes him more dangerous, the way he's all nervy. "No, you fucker. I mean I am his crimefighting partner" Corinth can't help but look bemused. "I -- don't take this the wrong way, dude, but I didn't know he had one." Dean looks sort of pleased - in a weird, anxious way - to let rip with the truth: "Exactly! Because it's better that I operate in secret. We didn't want bad guys like you to know, that gave us the advantage." "So... so that's why after we... after I first, um... so that's why Blakkout came rushing to your defence that night, why he was so concered about protecting you and not Chase here... or little Brett." Dean nods grimly. "That's why I've had to hide away in Blakkout's meta-screened secret bunker ever since that terrible night." "Terrible night?" Corinth repeats, attempting a playful smirk. "Come on, man, I think you might be making a little much out of ... out of just a bit of horseplay between guys?" Corinth winces, ready for a deathly blast. Even he found that one a little desperate. When the blast doesn't come, despite Dean's furious mask of anger, Corinth finds more words pouring out: "I mean, Chase here was involved too, and you don't see him going off the deep end." Chase is still down there on his knees, unsure of what move to make. Dean seems to notice him properly for the first time. "Stand up, buddy. There's no need for you to be afraid. I've come to rescue you from him. You don't have to be intimidated no more." Unsure, Chase stands up. He holds one arm with the hand over the other, awkwardly. Dean wants to tell him to put his clothes on, but first thing's first. "You can help me, Chase. Go find something to tie this guy up with. The sick bastard's bound to have something lying about. Hey, maybe you can even find that goddamn thing he put around my balls that night. See how he likes it, huh?!" Dean sounds gleeful and a tad unhinged. Corinth watches Chase go off and start rummaging about in his stuff. He's not liking this at all, wonders what the quickest way out of this mess is. He's no idea how long it will be before those enslaved super-dickheads get back here. Surely the odds'll shift a lot more into his favor then. Then again, it only takes one push of the trigger. He wonders just how fast they'd be able to move to save his life. He remembers some phrase about being faster than a speeding bullet, but he's pretty sure that was a slogan for someone else. Plus, he doesn't know if a laser blast is even quicker than a speeding bullet. With Chase seemingly signed up to help him out, Dean appears to have a little more swagger about him. "Yeah, I guess what goes around comes around, huh, Corinth Cardinal? I bet you thought you could just abuse two innocent guys and never have to pay for it." He dances around on his feet a little. Not a promising sign of his stability right now. And he must know, too, that the two super-dudes could return at any moment. "Well, you know what I think? I think you're jealous. Warped, weird, stunted little guy like you. You see us strong, healthy athletic - NORMAL guys, man, and you're so jealous it makes you crazy..." Jeez, thinks Corinth. As if the situation wasn't bad enough, I gotta listen to this faggot's dime store psychoanalysis. I should be listening to the bastard moaning out while I plow his ass. "Dean, what are you doing here? What's your plan?" Corinth interrupts, making sure to sound scared and squeamish - which isn't actually too difficult in the circumstances - but keen to cut short this particular line of gloating. "Oh yeah, I'm sure you'd like me to tell you my plan!" Dean laughs, a little too loudly, glancing over at Chase, who is struggling to find anything useful amongst Corinth's assembled detritus. "You think I'm dumb enough to fall for that one?" "I'm just saying, man," says Corinth in a level tone, "Sure, you've got the advantage now. But you know I'v got yer... crimefighting partner under my control. Plus Eclipse too" "I know that only too goddamn well, thanks! C'mon, Chase, there must be something useful there." "So how do you think this is all gonna play out? You want to kill me, right? But that'll just makes those guys furious. I'm sorry to have to remind you of this, babe , er Dean, but they worship me - "You sick fuck. They don't worship you, it's just the spell you've got them under, cuz off them goddamn harness things." "Okay, okay - so they worship me because of the harnesses. The point is, they get here and find you've killed me, they'll be fucking furious. They'll kill you. Even if you're not around anymore, even if you get away, they'll find you and kill you all the same. They'll be totally..." he searches for a suitably emphatic phrase, "you know, pissed off." He leaves a suitable pause, like his dad would do in one of these situations. "You kill me now, you're as good as dead too." Dean shakes his head stubbornly. "Don't be so sure of that." As counter-arguments go, it's not particularly strong, but it's backed up massively by the giant shiney space alien gun that is still aimed right at Corinth's chest. "So... what are you gonna do?" comes the question. Not from Corinth; it comes quietly from Chase. He looks worried. But because it's him asking, Dean answers: "I keep this slime at gunpoint right until my partner and that villain get back here. The instant they get in the door, the first thing YOU tell them -" - he points at Corinth - " - is not to harm me at all, ever. I've seen how that harness thing channels your commands, they'll have to obey. The very next thing you tell them is to remove the harnesses. Coming from you, they'll do it. And once the harnesses are off, they're themselves again. I get my ... I get my partner back. Everything's how it ought to be again." "Say, what's your superhero name, anyhow?" Corinth asks, deliberately changing the subject while he thinks this one through. Dean's plan totally relies on him staying alive at least. He's carefully not to visibly relax, lets the guy think he's still totally terrified out of his wits. "What?" Dean snaps, outraged that the crime heir doesn't appear to have been listening to the meat of his plan. Yeah, Corinth decides, let him think I'm gabbling. "You know, your super-sidekick name. Look out wrongdoers, it's Blakkout and... what? Blakkout Boy? Oh Jeez, not WhiteOut, I hope. That would be so lame." He hopes it's WhiteOut. "No, asshole, not WhiteOut. You can call me... Byteback!" "I can call you what?" "Byteback" "What?" "Byteback" Corinth looks puzzled. "What, like ...?" He makes a biting motion with his teeth. "So maybe... your power is that you have, what, superteeth?" "Wha...? No. No, you idiot, I don't have super powers..." Ah, interesting. Had their roles been reversed, Corinth would have kept him guessing about that. Big dope. "It's BYTEback. You know, as in a computer byte?" "Umm... no?" Corinth shrugs. "Well. You're ignorant." "Oh, so you're, like, the tech guy" Dean swells with what Corinth feels is frankly unwarranted pride. "I'm pretty much of a genius, actually. That's how I was able to disable the security protocols in your elevator there. That's how I'm able to keep the Blakkout Bunker off your father's citywide grid. Remember your dad's supercomputer SYMPOSA? I was the one who disabled it!" Corinth rolls his eyes, curls his lip: "Byteback? 'Blakkout's Cyber-Suckup' is more like it!" He's taken aback by a quite unfamiliar feeling as Dean lashes out and punches him in the face. Then quickly hoists the gun into position again, refusing to lose his cool for long. Corinth blinks, licks at his upper lip, tasting blood streaming from his nose. Dean looks pretty damn pleased with himself. "Yeah! You just shut the fuck up now, you little creep!" Corinth trembles for a little while, more of a rush of adrenalin than fear, though he does remain nervy. "Oh", Chase says quietly as he finally finds a length of rope. "That's great, pal, bring that over here" says Dean, beckoning him with his free hand before replacing it agains the underside of the weapon's heavy barrel. "Okay," he says as Chase approaches with the rope. "Okay, that's good enough. Go tie that little swine's arms behind his back. Good and tight. And be careful. He's a crafty little shit." An indignant Corinth lets himself be yanked about by Chase, looks over his shoulder behind him as Chase binds him at the wrists. "Dean will lose. And I won't forget" Corinth says softly. He mutters another word, right into Chase's sweet litle ear; muffled on the soundtrack, it sounds from where Dean is standing like "Treachery". Chase responds with a flush, a heavy yanking of the rope. "Okay, all right Chase buddy, back off away from him now" Dean says. "And don't take no notice of his threats. You stick with me and I'll keep you safe. You know where your clothes are? Go get dressed. Got you running around in those little pants like you're a whore. I'll get you your dignity back, pal. We'll get our revenge for what he did to us." He addresses Corinth. "And as for you. 'Treachery', you say. You got some goddamn nerve. He doesn't owe you any loyalty. What, you think he want to be a goddamn slave, humiliated by you? You sick fuck, it wouldn't surprise me if he wanted to kill you for what you've done to him. Ain't that right, Chase, huh?" Chase is opening an overstuffed laundry basket, fishing out his clothes from where Corinth stuffed them. "Yeah, man. Yeah, you're right." Having taken care of Corinth's restraints, Chase seems less hesitant than he did before. "Boy, am I glad that you showed. I thought I'd never get away from this sick fuck." He looks right at Corinth. "I know it's still risky, but at least now I stand a chance of getting away." "This city belongs to my pop and me" Corinth says straightforwardly, still licking at the blood on his upper lips, tasting it curiously and experimentally. "Seriously, where do you think you guys are gonna go?" "How's about you let us worry about that." Dean snorts. "If I don't give my guys your instructions right off, they'll just zoom in to protect me, and then you've had it." "I'll still have time to blow your head to vapour" Dean warns, nudging the gun at him again for emphasis. "Uh-huh, and exactly how is Chase here protected then? My super-goons are going to be way angry. And it's not going to be long before they find out that he's helped you do this. What, you think they're gonna pat him on the back?" Corinth warms to his theme: "And who's to say how my death will affect your precious 'crimefighting partner' and that evil Eclipse dude? They worship the ground I walk on. With me gone ... who's to say they won't go nuts? Hell, they could get so upset that they go on a rampage across this city. They're outta their goddamn minds the way they're dedicated to me. That kind of dedication could tip over into craziness real easy, you know?" Chase has pulled up his torn slim-fitting jeans and is sat on the floor fastening his sneakers. Like Dean, he appears to be deliberately not listening. "You're not going to get your freedom out of this, Chase" Corinth says. "Either way this goes down. The only one who can give you freedom is me. And you know, I like you, babe. You're my good boy, you always have been." "Don't you fucking talk to him like that, like you've got some kind of right over him!" growls Dean. "He's free of you now, he's free of you already. Jesus. Chase - I know what you want to do. You smack him one. Go on, I think that little puke face can take another punch. And he should get two fucking black eyes - one from each of us!" Chase nods, his eyes slowly widening. "Why not. A moment to.. to treasure". He drags the last word out oddly. Pleasurably, perhaps. He raises a hand to high-five Dean. "Fuck yeah, man." Still shirtless, he flexes one arm, bunches his fist and thus one of his impressive guns. He takes a step toward Corinth, flexing his shoulders. He draws back an arm. "You've really got this coming, you piece of shit..." And then, with his arm drawn right back and ready to launch, he kicks out forcefully and from nowhere with the opposing leg. A balletic, upright kick. It impacts on the ray gun with a clang, pelting it upwards and out of the one hand Dean is left holding it with. And then Chase lets loose with the punch, which spins in an arc as his torso swivels, and cracks Dean right in the nose, knocking him onto his back. That's when Corinth leaps from the chair, rope left behind, and catches the gun as it comes back down. "Fuck!" he yelps, surprised by its weight, but quickly getting to grips with it. By the time Dean pushes himself up on his elbows, Corinth has the gun pointed right at him. "Now, this is more my kind of scene" Corinth grins with malice. Chase steps back, panting, holding the top of one arm by the other hand. Tears twinkle in his eyes and he doesn't look totally happy with what he's done. "Oh, you are my good boy, Chase" Corinth nods. "You made the right choice, and like I said, I won't forget." Dean, whose nose is bleeding worse than Corinth's now, looks between Corinth and Chase. He reserves the biggest look of hatred and disgust for Chase. "You fucking bastard, man, you stupid asshole... you could have been free from this lump of poison; now look what you've done. No-one to stop him!" "Hey, don't talk to my good boy like that," Corinth smirks, "You naughty little thing, you. I've already has to take your toys off of you, haven't I. Don't make me get really severe." Dean continues, shaking his head in disbelief. He pats at his bloody nose with the back of his hand, trying to blink the tears from his eyes. "No-one to stop him and his father - you know what they're planning - they want to take down the Mighty Sun Surfer -- nothing's gonna stand in their way, they'll control this city absolutely in a couple of years if we don't..." "It sounds to me," Corinth interupts loudly, "Like my boy Chase has chosen the winning side. Cuz if I'm controlling this city absolutely like you say ... he's gonna want to get in my good books. Ain't that right, Chase babe?" Chase gulps and nods sadly, acceptingly. "Yes, master Corinth." "Good boy, Chase. Now go over to that top drawer there, get out the handcuffs and lock this loser faggot into them." He smiles at Dean in absolute pleasure: "I think they'll be a little more effective than those phoney baloney ropes you tried to tie me up in." Chase does as he is told. A good boy. And he looks so hot in just those torn jeans and sneakers. The perfect combination, an obedient he-man. "Phoney" Dean repeats in despair. "Sure. Phoney. They're trick ropes, from an escapology act. I think they might have belonged to that Houdini guy. One of the other gang bosses presented them to me as a birthday thing one time. "And Chase there, he realised right away once he tried to put 'em on me. I think he might have made the knots loose even if they were real ropes, am I right, babe?" Chase doesn't answer. He shrugs lightly, noncommitally. "Hmmm, maybe not," Corinth considers. "I guess he really could have gone either way there. I'll ... I'll forgive you for thinking of betraying me, Chase babe, cuz I at least know you came good in the end" "Thankyoumaster," Chase mutters as he takes the cuffs from the drawer. Indeed these do seem a hell of a lot sturdier than those tricksy ropes. Dean sighs deeply, furiously. "Treachery. You got that right." Corinth chuckles. "Oh no, fuckface. I didn't say 'treachery'. Probably sounded like that to you. No, I said 'Dredger'. That was the name of one of the guys I've seen Chase take down in one of his weekend fights. One of his best. He beat the guy just the way he just... ha, the way he fucking beat you, bitch! Aiming a punch as a trick, then just swinging that powerful leg up from nowhere, totally taking the guy by surprise. Course, this time he was aiming for this awesome gun here and not the other guy's jaw. But it's another kick-ass win for my favourite stud, that's for sure." Punctuating Corinth's words, Dean feels his arms dragged behind him by Chase, feels the handcuffs locking around his wrists. "no..." he whimpers. "Oh yes, Dean Demeter. Oh yes yes, fucking yes, you're right back where I want you," Corinth gloats. "A moment to 'Tredger', like Chase said. Ha! And it's a good thing too - coz I do hate unfinished business. Unless it's business I just get bored of, of course." Corinth kisses the huge weapon like an action star, the most unlikely action star you've ever seen - (not a thing like Roman Decker, for sure) - and heads off to lock it away in a safe. "My dad's guys are gonna want to take a good look at that thing, see how it works, so thanks for that too. Man, you must feel like a total, useless loser the way you just keep playing into my hands." He heads back over to Dean, taking a hold of him by the jaw. "But I shouldn't worry about it those feeling too much. Coz that is exactly what you fuckin' are!" Dean struggles to keep his face from crumpling, grits his teeth as a beatifically pleased Corinth refuses to let him turn away. Corinth goes and picks up a rag to dab at his nose with, uses the same one to rub the blood off Dean's face, more roughly. "Chase, move him over there, wouldya sweetheart? Sit him down in that chair." Chase does as he is told, handling Dean with an apologetic demeanour at first, before Dean angrily resists and Dean instinctively ups the force to subdue him. Shoved down into the chair, Corinth tells Chase to hold Dean's face aloft by the hair. Stripping off his pants, already sporting an enormous chubby, Corinth climbs up, planting a foot either side of Dean's ribs and squatting over him, one hand gripping onto his shoulder for purchase. "Yeah..." he says, "Here you go, you fucking loser..." He strokes the shaft of his huge upright cock in Dean's handsome if bloodied and beleagured face. "Thought you could come here and defeat Corinth Cardinal, didn't ya ... ooohh man ... thought some prettyboy piece of ass like you could stand in the way of the Cardinal empire ... fuckyeah... oh fuckyeah... you never ever stood a chance against me ... mmmmm... oh damn, that's good... I rule this city, and some day everybody's gonna know it... and you, boy, fucking look at ya... ohhhhhhhhyeahhh... your pathetic, loser effort to stand in my way ... here it comes, boy... you worthless, useless faggot... here... unnnnnghhhh... unnghhyeahhh!! Fuckin' feel your master's jizz covering your face! Uhhhhh! Fuck!FuckYEAH!" Oh fuck, the thick globs of jizz pour and pour from Corinth's rigid cock. He squeezes and pumps it all out, every last volley as it keeps on cumming, pouring and pouring to cover all of Dean Demeter's wretched face. "That's it, that's it, you pathetic scumbag. Yeah, how'd you like that jizz? Thought you could come here and threaten me ... you're lucky you're pretty hot, or I might just have used that gun on you, like you planned to on me." Corinth uses his fingertips to push thick gloops of his cum towards Dean's mouth, and when Dean refuses to open up he pushes them towards his nostrils. His lips part then, and the cum goes in. "Yeah, missed the taste of your master, have you? While you were hiding yourself away from me? Missing out on the delicious taste of my cum --- dunno why you would deny it to yourself. But you'll get used to that taste all right. I'm cumming on you every chance I get now. You've got a hell of a lot of jizz owing to you, BitesAss, or whatever you said you were called." He hops off the miserable cunt. "Hey, Chase, you put them sneakers on long enought to make that kick count. But I gotta get you to strip off again now, babe. I need you to strip off and get yourself hard for me" Chase looks between Dean and Corinth, already starting to unbutton his jeans, but looking quizzical and alarmed. Corinth's never actually asked him to get himself hard before - Chase's cock has never been much of Corinth's business; he's always paid so much more attention to his back end. Sure, sometimes Chase gets a boner on when Corinth is fucking him, sometimes he doesn't. Occasionally Corinth has reached and jacked him off to orgasm just to illustrate that he does indeed like it. But mostly Corinth treats Chase like he doesn't even have a cock, like it's an irrelevance to him. "Here, take a sniff of this," Corinth smiles after Chase has stripped himself bare again, holding something pungent under Chase's nose and pressing down on his nostrils one at a time. "Little aphrodisiac" Chase inhales deeply and Corinth pops the item back on one of his overstuffed shelves. "Powerful stuff that, man, from deep in the rainforests. Hey ...!" This last is aimed at Dean, who is wriggling up from the chair, wiping the jizz from his face all over the arm and working his way up to his feet. "Thing is, asshole," says Corinth, bending down at Dean's feet, "without your arms for balance, things like this can happen -" He clutches Dean at the ankles with both hands, yanking them back. Dean falls face forward, unable to reach out to cushion the impact- Chase leaps in to grab him. He doesn't stop him altogether, but he manages to stagger the fall. It's an instinct, he doesn't even think about it. It's only as he gently releases Dean, laying on his side on the floor and groaning, that a shard of panic strikes through him. Still on his haunches, he turns his head to look up and see Corinth's reaction. Corinth looks surprised, but pleasantly, like he couldn't have imagined such an act of kindness, let alone one that is simply a reflex. He looks like he finds it charming. Chase still feels a knot of fear in the pit of his stomach. The little bastard might find it just as charming to put him on the rack for his efforts. He's probably got one somewhere in this place. "There now, you see how considerate Chase is to you, loser?" Corinth teases, "Way more than you deserve, if you ask me. After you come in here blowing up my lift doors and getting jizz stain all over my fancy chairs ... "Don't do me any fuckin' favors" Dean grunts at Chase. "Oh but Chase is real considerate," Corinth continues. "Chivalrous, that's it. A total gentlemen." Chase is standing up slowly, unsure whether to maintain the semi-apologetic position down on the floor or not. Corinth beckons hims over, fondling at his nice chest and taking a hold of dick and his balls. "You ought to be happy, you know ... to have such a considerate lover" Thus Corinth informs Chase that his reward for coming through with that fucking awesome kick is to get to plow some ass of his own for a change. First Chase must hold the struggling Dean down while Corinth gets some heavy duty scissors, and then when they're too inefficient, some metal cutters, to cut Dean out of his heavy duty superhero outfit. "Man, what's this thing made from..." Corinth mutters as he slowly, piece by piece, strips the ugly orange outfit off him. Soon enough, Dean's hot body is all exposed, down to his tighty whities. Corinth gets these off with a last couple of snips, drops them on the floor. "You're lucky, Chase, you're one priveleged boy," Corinth says, getting his beautiful hunk to lay back on the floor. "If I had that Brett Dillinger here, or Devin 'the splooge stooge' Trasseno, this is where I'd be putting 'em to work... it's not many guys get Corinth Cardinal doing his own fluffing for 'em..." All that said, Corinth gets down by the side of Chase's awkwardly prone body and gets his lips around the gorgeous hunk's dick, tongueing and sucking it into life. "Hey, this is pretty fucking fun actually!" Corinth slurps in surprise about halfway through. He has an easy time of it, mind you - Chase hasn't enjoyed this kind of attention in weeks, not since that girl Kasey in the nightclub he strips at. His cock leaps into surprised life at this unexpected treatment, and Corinth really doesn't have to do a lot before he has a totally rock hard boner on. Corinth kisses at it up and down the length greedily, getting himself all carried away before he remembers to get the studded cock ring on him too, for good measure. "Whaddya say, Chase? You ready to fuck Dean Demeter now?" he says, laying himself on top of Chase's chest and kissing at his mouth. "Be your first time doing a guy, won't it? Ain't that right ...?" Truth be told, it's hard for him to keep track of all the sexual scenarios he's put Chase Phaeder into before now - plus he doesn't really know what Chase might have got up to in that club where he dances. But he's pretty certain Chase has never fucked a dude before. Only ever been on the receiving end, by Corinth's reckoning. Getting Chase to understand exactly the position he wants him to do ram Dean in is a tricky task - or it would be if the pair of them couldn't lift Dean up on his feet and manhandle him like a dummy. Corinth doesn't even look too concerned that Dean has been making tentative efforts to shuffle off - there's not really anywhere for him to go. The pair of them, Corinth and his accomplice Chase, just catch up with him and start tugging him about. Corinth demonstrates on the bound Dean. This they do until finally Chase gets it, and pulls the superhero's sidekick down to the floor with him awkwardly. "You fucking bastard!" Dean protests, "You've fucking sold out to this evil little prick, ugghhh, no, get off me..." Chase has a history as their school's wrestling champ. He looks quite at home as he brings the other hunk under control. In fact, it reminds him of when he used to practise his moves on a dummy. Dean's just as helpless as a dummy, as Devin was earlier today. Chase doesn't get why he's so turned on, but he is, seizing Dean's bound arms and yanking him about. "Don't you fucking resist,man!" Chase grunts. Whether he's trying to save Dean some pain or just starting to have a good time - well, who's to say. But there is the return of that look. A contemptuous expression of entitlement, of exacting some obscure vengeance. As per Corinth's instructions he gets on his back, and pulls Dean on top of him, so that Dean's back and his trapped arms are squashed against his torso. Chase gets his hot, buff arms around him in a loose sleeper hold, shifting his hips about to aim his big hard boner right where it needs to be. Meanwhile Corinth gets some more cuffs out from a drawer practically overflowing with them. You can never have enough hardware around for getting guys all tied up with. He picks out a couple of bigger ones, designed for cuffing at the ankles. He uses them to cuff Chase's leg to Dean's, then the same on the other side. That done, Chase can keep Dean's legs spread just by spreading his own. There's a struggle between the two - man, it's hot seeing the muscles in these guys' legs going as they battle for supremacy - but Chase is clearly going to win, even without Corinth's eager assistance. "Fuck yeah, dude, I remember the one time you tried to join the wrestling team - the way I remember it, Chase here wiped the floor with you and you gave up" Corinth laughs, "You remember that, Chase? Course you fuckin' do. Fucking keep them legs spread, babe, show him who's the man here!" Dean gurgles his outrage, choking against Chase's arm at his throat, "You're no fuckin' man, you evil, crazy little.... UGH! fucking ... worm..." Corinth picks Dean's torn briefs up off the floor, crumples them up and stuffs them in his mouth. "Didn't catch what you said there, loser, you wanna repeat it?" He pinches and squeezes Dean's busted nose as Dean wails against a ball of his own underpants in anguish. "Didn't fucking think SO!" Corinth laughs, letting go. Corinth gets a good does of amyl under Dean's nose too, "Yeah, whiff that up, babe, that'll loosen you up a little... nothing worse than an uptight faggot..." There's a hot, manly kind of stink coming from Chase's armpits too. "Oh yeah, you catch that too, slut? Catch that whiff from Chase's pits? Sniff that up good, really help get you in the mood for where you are now." Corinth gets down to the business end of things, helps guide Chase's boner to its target, spitting on Chase's dick and on Dean's quivering little pussy asshole to ease things along. He spits all over it, getting it as slick as he can, before taking hold of the shaft of Chase's fat cock, making sure there's no chance of it missing its target. Fuck yeah. That's it. Chase enters Dean with a shove. Dean grunts out and Chase makes an appreciative groan as he gets up inside that ass. "That's it... that's it, Chase babe, now you fuck him... you show this lamewad what an ace fucker you really are ... remember ten minutes ago when he was stood there with his big fuckin' gun like nothing could stop him? You fucking took him down like he was nothing, didn't you... and now you've got him... you know, I haven't even had a moment to think about what we're gonna do with him ... maybe you deserve a hot fucktoy all of your own, huh Chase? Never quite a part of the old pec pack with him and the other guys were you... I think maybe those homos thought they were better than you... fucking richer than you, that's what they thought. Fuck. Him. Fuck the shit outta that cunt, man, fucking sweet feeling ain't it?" Chase doesn't need any encouragement. He's getting into his groove now, sliding his cock deep in and out, never totally letting it leave Dean's pussy asshole, but letting him feel the length of it going up inside him again and again. "Guccccch... fuck...yuhhhh... ohhhhman, itsso fuckingtight..." Chase breathes, "Ohhhhh... ohhhhh fuck... I'm so sorry man, I'm so sorry but fucking you does feel fucking awesome..." Chase's apology does not seem to match his actions as he squeezes his forearm closer around Dean's throat. Dean protests against his gag, thrashing his head from side to side as much as he can as he attempts to spit it out, and finding when he has some tiny success that Corinth simply reaches in and replaces it, giving it as shove inside with the heel of his hand. Chase keeps on pounding at Dean's hole, something he totally didn't expect to be doing this evening. He feels a wicked flush of power at having done this to Dean, at having betrayed the dope's trust. It makes him feel guilty, but the guilt is treacherous, coz it just makes this hotter, dirtier: "Fuck yeah... oh fuck... oh Dean you prick... some fucking superhero you'd make... unnnghh... fuck... oh man, you did go down like a fucking bitch, you know... fuck, oh fuck I'm so sorry dude ... so sorry but you feel so good..." "Don't keep apologising to this sidekick sissy," Corinth reprimands, shaking his head. "Hey, as far as he's concerned you're enemies now. Coz you've taken my side --- the winning side--- and he's been fucking defeated --- so you let him know how defeated he is!" Even as he plows the fuck outta him, Chase can't quite revel in taking control the way Corinth does. Corinth is torn between finding this kind of adorable and finding it annoying. But it don't matter: soon he's ready for the next step. "Lift 'em legs up there, Chase" he says, "Lift up those big strong sexy legs of yours and take this dickhead's with them. Coz I'm coming in there too now" Chase does it, groaning out with a sexy man roar as he takes the weight of Dean's legs with his, hoisting them up by their shared restraints to get them up and apart just a little more. Even without being able to brace his feet properly on the floor, he keeps pumping at Dean's hot, tight little hole. Man, how that hole is gonna handle this double penetration you just can't imagine. It looks totally full up already with Chase's meaty cock going at it in there, never mind the massive invader Corinth has ready to stab his way in with. But persistence always pays off, Corinth finds, and Dean sooooo needs to be fucked by both of them at the same time. "Okay, ya dreamboat dingbat, I think we're gonna make your pussy dreams come true now. Betcha the last thing you expected when you came smashing your way into my apartment was me and Chase Phaeder both smashing our way into your ass. Probably didn't dare dream things could get that good for you, huh?" Dean grunts and grumbles savagely against the underpant gag. "That sounds like a 'fuck yeah' to me," sneers Corinth. "Well, don't you worry, sweetheart, just you fucking relax, we're both gonna be in there soon, no matter how much of a tight squeeze it is - I mean, I gotta say, my huuuuge fucking cock is massive enough to fill up any faggot's guts, even a wussy tightass like yours --- but Chase ain't no slacker in the man meat department either, is he - guess thar's the Italian blood in him. "So, just think, yeah -- both the great big fuckers together? All stuffed up inside you driving you wild? Man, you are one fucking lucky hunkyboy... "Thinking about that, are you? Cuz there's really no need now, bro. You feel that? Oh fuck yeah, asshole, of course you do ... that's me, yeah... jus' getting the head of my big hot boner past the fuckin' welcome mat of your ass pubes. Oh man, soft little ass pubes, ain't they? Chase, when he's not all shaved and waxed coz he's such a professional, he has hair around his butthole like the deep dark forest. And you know what happens in the deep dark forest... naughty little boys like me get lost in there... "Now see, these ass hairs of yours ... more like a dewey glade, I'd say. Lush, man, lush... easy to just...." Dean gurgles out, eyes rolling in his head. "...sliiiiii...iiiiiiiide INTO!!!" Corinth roars, seething with pleasure as the length of his dick finds its target, as it plunges deep into the hot, pumping tightness of Dean's sexy boy tunnel on one side, and squeezes against the throbbing shaft of Chase Phaeder's majestic buttstabber on the other. "GodDAMN, boy!" Corinth glories, "You know, your horny, um, crimefighting partner has a pretty hefty ol' cock on him too - you see, I know that, because of the way it fucking THRASHES about in front of him when I pork the fucking daylight outta his big, muscled man's ASS ... yeah, you sure can tell how big his cock is by listening to it smacking against his thighs and his stomach while I am OWNING the living shit out of his butt, yeah, bitch?" Corinth grabs at Dean's sexy pecs, tweaking and pinching his little jutty niples. "Yeah? You get me? Okay, but even THAT ... you beaten! Loser! Fuck!! - isn't half as much cock as what's filling up - filling up to fucking busting point, it feels like -- your lucky slut asshole right now! Let's hear how you like it, you piece of fucking slut meat!" Corinth yanks the gag from Dean's mouth, and isn't disappointed at the enormous croaking wheeze that it unstoppers. It's like someone cracked open a window on an airplane. Corinth shoves the wet crumpled rag back in. Chase sighs, way deep from his chest: "Oh my God, man, this feels fuckin' amazing... I never had a fuck felt so intense ... unnnnhhhh... I can feel your cock up in there against mine, master... ohhhhhhhh it feels so fuckin' sweeeeeet..." Corinth licks about at Dean's sweaty torso. "Yuh, made the right choice there, didn't you, Chase babe? Just think ... if you hadn't kicked that gun outta this twerp's hands, we'd still be sitting there bored... him pointing his gun at us... waiting for my guys to turn up and inevitably... inevitably!! ... frigging defeat him... man... uhhhh your cock feels so good against mine ... so reeeeally... you just saved us some time... plus gave this homo the shot of a lifetime at getting filled up with cock!" "Not!" he growls into Dean's face suddenly, "That this is gunna be any kind of a one-of-a-kind thing. I gotta work out yet what to do with your pansy ass after this... but you're a good-looking dude ... and my dad has so many contacts all around the world ... jus' looking for hot boys like you ... oh yeahhhhh boy, there is one endless appetite for sex slaves like you... boy, your sweet buddy Nate Lusher would be one of mine right now ... if only he hadn't... "Anyways... one time my dad's lab guys took this big, bald circus strongman ... right ... and turned him into this insatiable sex monster... it was a total side effect of something else they were trying to do ... so... he's like hard and horny all the time ... they gotta keep him locked up... he's like a steroid-pumped wolf man... who just needs to fuck all the time... boy, they feed guys into that cell... like you'd feed a fuckin' lion mice! ... the fuckers we put in there... man, after a few hours they're left pulverised by cock, they take days to recover..." Corinth laughs: " --- but you'd still be surprised at the amount of volunteers we get! "And shit, dude, you have soooooo just volunteered yourself for some of that... yeahhhhh!" "OOoooooooooaahhhyeahh... uhhhh... yeah... I'm gonna cum... oh fuck... oh Christ, I gonna come, master... is it okay that I cum??" "Well fuck, Chase, ain't it sweet of you to ask... you just do what you gotta do... man, even through this wuss shaking and wriggling I can feel you bucking up and down ready to bust your nuts ... do it, man!" "Ohhhhhyeah...ooooooooooo... fuckin TAKE that... Dean... ugh! ugh! Take that fucking cum... uhhh... you stupid prick!" Chase feels the huge hot bloom of cummy goodness erupt inside Dean Demeter, feels that creamy gush getting everywhere it can in them squeezed little confines, lubricating the tight space between their two dicks, and making the feeling too damn sweet for Corinth not to cum too... Oh yeah, so Corinth's jizz floods out and mixes with Chase's - one giant fucking splooge cocktail way up in this fucker's guts. Corinth wriggles his cock around in it as much as he can, and Chase joins in, their throbbing, still-spewing boners hugging together and letting that fucking orgasm blast just flow on and on and fuckin' ON... ---- As they pant and laugh, and slowly come down from the rush, it's Corinth who sloops his rock hard boner out first, splatting a generous load of cum on the floor as he draws himself out of the sweet fucktunnel and stands up, staggering as he's hardly able to feel his legs. He braces a palm against the wall for support. "Holy fuck... you've gotta love bein' a bad guy!" As Chase eases his and Dean's legs down with a heavy, satisfied sigh, he tips over onto his side, taking Dean's weight off him even though their legs are still bound together, and continues pushing up and down with his cock in there, unable to stop. He licks and nibbles at Dean's neck and ears, loving this feeling of holding and squeezing and fucking someone after getting so accustomed to being used as a bottom by Corinth. Corinth helpfully unlocks their ankle cuffs and Chase takes leave of that hole with a wet plop. So much more jizz pours out of Dean's butthole as Chase's fat cock leaves it, two thick loads' worth of creamy jizz just pouring and pouring into a puddle under his pounded butt. Dean coughs out the gag, bit by bit, and a much smaller pool of spit comes out with that too. Sat on the floor and his knees, Chase looks up at Corinth. He nods, still panting and totally soaked in sweat. "Uhhhhh... oh fuck yeah, did I ever make the right choice, master!" Corinth pats him on the cheek, leans in to give him a kiss. "Good boy, Chase. Good boy... " --------- As the guys come down from their post-coital high, Dean is left trussed up in the corner, looking miserable. "I wonder when those guys are gonna get back?" Corinth wonders, looking out over the horizon of Sol Casali, unable to believe it will be quite so easy to bring the era of the Mighty Sun Surfer to an end. These plans of his dad's never seem to work out, no matter how experly executed. "Boy, you should see him though, Deany boy," he adds "That professor Felix of yours. He's totally into me. Just like Eclipse has been for ages now. Remember last time you were here? How obedient Eclipse was? How much he hung on my every word? Man, your crime-fighting best bud is JUST as much under my thumb now. And he's bounding around out there with a whole bunch of my cum in his guts just to prove it. You know,I totally thought I'd spent all the jizz I had in my balls for the rest today, til you turned up. Then it's like I got a second wind from just how much I wanted to humiliate you. And mission accomplished, you sad sack son of a bitch. You couldn't look more pissed off than you do now! Dumb slut" Dean's jaw is set and he's pulling off a look of gloomy defiance. For a few moments. But then his jaw wobbles and his handsome model-looking face crumples. Then he starts sobbing. It just makes Corinth's evil grin twist all the wider. "Yeah, you may as well cry like a bitch, boy. It's a big fucking occasion, this. The twilight of the gods. Three whole super-powered preening faggots taken outta contention be me!" He's so enjoying himself, Corinth overlooks his father's contribution. He extends one finger at a time: "The Mighty Sun Surfer. Dude, they've probably flattened him into, like, the Mighty Sun Burger by now. "Eclipse. My obedient Devin Trasseno. He's my slave forever. And maybe when I get bored of him hanging around underfoot, I'll give him to my dad for his experiments. He loves his experiments, my pop. "And the new guy. Blakkout. Your pal. Well, I gotta fuck him a lot more before I'm done with him. But I know what's gonna happen there. He's defeated my dad's schemes a couple of times. Not as much as the Surfer, but still. My pop bears a grudge. Sooner or later, he's going to figure it's time to collect that debt. And that's the day Blakkout gets wiped out. What can I tell you, my dad's a predator. Guy's like a shark." Dean is shaking his head abjectly, crying. "No.... no... uhhhhhh,,, oh God... please, man, please... Professor Felix is all I've got... uuunnnhhh, Oh Jesus, I love him man, puh...please..." "You what, son?" Corinth inquires, raising an eyebrow. Dean is in full flow, the secret pouring out of him now, "I love him, I'm fucking in love with him, I always have buh...been... I always hoped he would-would realise... but he never has... please, Corinth, please... have mercy... " Corinth furrows his brow, considers this novel concept. "Wow, so that's it, huh? You superhero sidekicks really are all hot for your hunk-dude mentors, huh?" Dean nods helplessly, tears pouring into his own mouth. "Now, ain't that interesting" Corinth ponders. "Ha! Well, it must make you sick that he's in love with me now!" "Please, m... master Corinth... please, you don't want him, you don't need him like I do... he can be your s..slave ... fuck... so can I ... just let us be your slaves together..." Corinth is practically clapping his hands with glee and this delightful outpouring of sheer, ass-kicked wuss juice from Dean Demeter. Boy, if his fucking pec pack buddies could see him now. Boy, if Corinth could only have seen the gorgeous Nate Lusher grovelling for his favor like this... "Make him love me..." Dean begs, "I could stand being your slave if he was there to hold me in his arms..." Corinth's grin becomes enormous and wide, and he looks to Chase with giddy amusement. Chase does not share the look of amusement, though. He looks stricken and increasingly sick, the horror of what Corinth is coming back to him after the rush of their sexual domination of Dean. His orgasm pumelled the sanity out of him briefly, but he is realising anew that he has sold himself out to a monster. Corinth's eye rests upon Chase's suddenly clammy and blanched body. His grins fades away, his gaze cold and inscrutable as he starts to wonder whether Chase is really cut out to be a supervillain's guy concubine. Then he smirks a little again, and gestures with a nod of his head for Chase to go over and free Dean from his bonds. "Untie him, Chase. He ain't gonna resist no more" he says. Chase does so. And then he does something that Corinth does not expect, wrapping his strong, cold-sweat drenched arms around Dean's trembling, sob-heaving body and hugging him. The dudes' beautiful heads rest against each other and it seems that Chase himself is struggling to suppress tears. Corinth expects to experience this as one more super-satisfying moment of absolute victory over these alpha male studs. He is surprised, then, to find himself moved by the sweetness of this act, and to feel a gut-punch of jealousy or embarrassment that he is not capable of anything this human. Chase helps Dean up, and as the guys rise to their full height, it occurs to Corinth that he has locked away the ray gun, and that his super-powered bodyguards could be any number of minutes away from returning. These dudes could totally bash the fuck out of him. Sure, they'd pay for it after. But say they didn't care about that, say they just wanted to get their revenge on him while they could. Say they just wanted to smash him like the pimple on this city that he is. So even Corinth is not sure whether it is some previously untapped capacity for compassion within him, or merely an attempt to buy off their potential violence, when he says: "You know what, man, that is cool with me. What the hell, maybe I can play fairy godfather to you fairy motherfuckers. A demolished Dean and a Chase who is on the verge of breaking down look at him in surprise. "Yeah, I could tell Blakkout to fall in love with you and he'd totally do it, wouldn't he, cuz he'll do anything I say. Hey, I'm glad I could be so instrumental in getting you to come out of the fucking closet, I guess. I bet you never really knew, until I opened your butthole up for business, that Professor Hot Ass was what you really wanted. Am I right?" Blinking, a wet glint of hope in his eye, Dean nods slowly. "Yeah, and then it all made sense," Corinth continues, "Damn I'm good. Sure, dude, you and the professor. I can see that. Or rather, I'd fuckin' LIKE to see it. You can be a real happy couple, and both of you my bitches at the same time. Yeah, why not... I never owned a couple before. You and the professor, both of you kissing each other while you do at my cock. I'm down for that. And I can make him real hot for you dude. I can make him horny for you any which way you like. Corinth's puckish little face takes on a heroic aspect as he tilts his head, looks out through the glass towards the skies. "Yeah, the age of these super bastards is coming to an end. The city's gonna fall to me and my pop sooner or later. Why not some hot boy love-in from here on. Why not we just fucking chill out... just so long as you know your place..." Dean's grief turns to a sudden, dizzy joy. Chase smiles at him as if in support, but he can see this overwhelming turnaround in his mood is some kind of hysteria. Dean just isn't coping with the suddenness of what has happened here. Only an hour ago he strode into this place expecting to force Corinth to do what he wanted by waving that huge shiny gun around. Now he's contemplating a life of sexual servitude shared with a man he's only just admitted to himself he's in love with. This is fucked up, Chase thinks, this is really fucked up. Dean's lost it. "Th-thank you master" Dean whimpers, stumbling forward. "Oh, thanks you so much..." He falls down on his knees before Corinth. He puts his hands around the scrawny devil's narrow hips and cranes in his head. He starts raining delicate kisses on the still cum-sticky titan of a cock. "Thank you, thank you... I'll be good... I'll be happy to be your slave if I can do it with him... we can serve you together, Master... just make him love me..." Corinth accepts this loving worship of his cock graciously. He gentle fondles Dean's sweat-dampened blonde hair, giving a reprimanding smile to Chase that says: go with it, or else. It's then that the super-powered dudes arrive back on the penthouse balcony with a surprising delicacy of step. Just the two of them, Blakkout and Eclipse. No sign of the Surfer, and no triumphant swagger either. Eclipse has a black eye, and looks apologetic. "I'm sorry, my master. We failed in our first attempt to overwhelm the Surfer. But next time we will have him. What we didn't expect was..." But his reminiscence of their comic booky adventures is cut short by an interruption. Blakkout, Professor Felix, sees Dean Demeter kneeling at Corinth Cardinal's cock, which is swelling again into thick, fat life. "Dean!" he roars, outraged, "You treacherous little worm! Get away from my master's sacred cock!" He storms over to them with preternatural speed: "The master's cock is only for ME!" And as he booms this last word, he grips the young man's head between his hands to wrench it away from Corinth's beloved cock. And indeed it is Dean's head that wrenches away, yanked clean off his shoulders, which topple forth against Corinth's legs. "Eeeeew!" Corinth exclaims ickily, kicking the thing off him. The headless torso hits the floor with a thud. "For me only!" repeats Blakkout, totally unfazed by what he has done. He hurls the detached head of Dean Demeter contemptuously across the room. "... just me ..." There's an unconvincing lack of gore or gushing blood here, considering what has happened. The special effects in this movie lend a jarring neatness to this act of manual decapitation, and in some shots, the head looks like a prop. Still. Corinth looks shocked. More, it must be said, by the grossness of Dean's body falling against him than by the horror of what has happened. And in a moment, his true twisted nature returns. He looks at the body, at the discarded head, and at Blakkout. And even though his mouth is slightly drooling, because he feels like he is about to be sick, his lips curl into a wicked, knowing smile. "Oh yeah," he chuckles, his voice a little cracked. "I forgot to say: there's no need to be jealous of other dudes serving me. They make your master happy, they should make you happy too. Ha, yeah. I guess I should have remembered that from when I first instructed Eclipse." He is actively sneering now. "Whoops." An extended moment of stillness, Blakkout on the verge of apologising. Then it's Chase who loses his lunch, all over the marble floor. The super-dudes look at Corinth like they're wondering if he might want them to punish Chase for making a mess. Corinth shakes his head 'no', and then starts being sick himself. But he recovers from it chuckling. It's like expelling the vomit has cleared him of all responsibility, like he's expunged Dean Demeter from himself with this simple act. "Lot of mess here," he says, wiping his mouth. "Lucky I got me two big butch maids in spandex, ain't it?" And so the supervillain Eclipse teams up with the formerly heroic Blakkout to mop up a young guy's sick. Corinth sits on the couch with a shell-shocked Chase, patting him on the thigh as if to say everything's going to be okay. They both start trembling.Corinth has always found that passes if you give it an hour or two. Then comes a sort of euphoria, usually. But it isn't euphoria that comes along next; almost the opposite - it's Corinth's dad, arriving on the helipad. As he steps out of the chopper, he already looks majorly pissed, thanks to whatever royal screw-up it was that allowed the Mighty Sun Surfer to escape his fate earlier. As he steps into this horrific scene, even Mortimus is taken aback. Oh, he's seen his son's crazy side now and then, he knows about the boys who never made it back from some of the Corinthians' parties. But he is surprised that Corinth has, so to speak, crapped on his own doorstep. A slouched, tired-looking Corinth looks up as his dad comes in. "Well, dad, you wanted a head. There's one over there. Not quite the one you were thinking of, but beggars can't be choosers." Mortimus takes a moment to weigh up this scene as Corinth explains the tiny error he made in not instructing Blakkout fully enough. Chuck Felix, for his part, says he is sorry but still looks kind of glad to have goten his Corinth-cock-seeking rival out of the way. Chase, meanwhile, is mortified as he realises it could so easily have been him who had Corinth's dick in his mouth when the superfreaks came back. Mortimus listens patiently. Grisly as this appears, this may well be his moment. "Son," he says, "This has been a messy situation, there's no doubt about that. What's worse is that these two goons failed in their first attempt to destroy the Mighty Sun Surfer. They have become too accustomed to subservience, I fear. He continues: "This is a task that will require some dedication on their part-" Uh-oh. These words alone sound like a fucking story arc brewing. One where that goddamn Surfer comes out of it at the end alive. Corinth can see it coming already and can't be bothered with the commitment. So it's quite welcome what his dad says next: "Son, let me take these super-powered lunks off your hands. I have, er...." he reaches into his inside pocket - "actually prepared something for a situation much like this. Of course, I never thought I would have to use it..." He takes out a scroll, another Ancienty Egyptian-looking one. But more hardy than most of them, as it doesn't dessicate in his grip. "Oh yeah?" Corinth nods. "That figures. So what you got there then?" "I have had my researchers, archaeologists, necromancers and scientists working on this for some time-" Corinth chuckles at his dad's nerve. "Yeah, that sounds like a lot of work for something you never thought you'd have to use." "Precautions, Corinth, mere precautions" Mortimus chafes unconvincingly. "Sure. So what is that? Some kind of deed to these dudes?" Mortimus smiles. "Bluntly less. I won't go into the arcane methodology we had to employ to get this far, but let's just say this scroll is not as simple a thing as it looks. As I recall, it appeared in a puff of blue smoke at the end of a three-day convocation process." "Wild," says Corinth, looking bored. "Let me 'cut out the dull bits' for you, my lad. Essentially, you sign this document, and the power you wield over these two lunar-energised freakshows transfers over to me." "Oh really? Simple as that, huh." "Well, no. In fact you have to sign twice." He unfolds it. "Here and here." "And that's it? Really?" Considering what he went through to get these harnesses in the first place, this transaction seems disappointingly mundane. "That' s all there is to it. Well, you have to sign in your own blood of course. Standard practise in cases like this." "Uh-huh. Right, so I sign in blood and then you get my two playtoys here?" "Yes, yes, exactly" Mortimus says with grand conclusiveness. Then he adds: "Oh yes, and one more human sacrifice is required too. Again, standard practise" "Right" Corinth says at length. "And, um, why am I going to do this exactly?" Mortimus does his dreadful 'reasonable' act. "Come, son, you've had your fun with these freaks, haven't you? And look at this mess - this dead headless idiot here- all as a result of tampering with forces too... well, tricky for you to underst... to have the- the time or the energy to deal with. Who knows what else might happen?" Then Mortimus swells up and adds portentously: "Sexual jealousy can be a very dangerous force, difficult to police." Corinth looks almost sicker than he did when Dean Demeter's head came off. "Gross, dad. Could you please not say things like that." "Ah but son, I wouldn't come in here and attempt to ask you to give up your toys if I didn't have something to offer you in exchange. Leonard-" This to his right-hand henchman, standing by the door that leads onto the helipad "- bring me my electronic pad." And again, for a contingency Mortimus claims not to have particularly expected, it's surprising how ready Leonard appears to be for this moment. He opens up the same briefcase he earlier had the backup Blakkout outfits in and takes out a small computer device that in this 1990s movie looks anachronistic except as science fiction. He hands it to Mortimus, and Mortimus activates He keeps the screen hidden from Corinth's view for the moment, acting like he's about to hand over an awesome surprise gift. "Now, Corinth, do you remember when I first sent you to Egypt to bargain for the harnesses that have brought these men under our control?" "Yeah, course I do" Corinth snipes, "You didn't warn me how many people I had to take with me and I wound up having to sacrifice-" "Nate Lusher!" Mortimus finishes with smug relish, like he's answering a particularly difficult crossword clue. He continues: "Nate Lusher, Nate Lusher, Nate Lusher. How many times have I heard you mention that name. And when you bear in mind how little notice I take of you and your parade of obsessions with pansy whelps of one kind or another, think just how much you must have whined about it for me to remember it." Corinth looks at his dad and at the scroll, standing up from the sofa, stepping over the former Dean Demeter. "So..." Corinth ponders, "... oh man! Don't tell me you can like... resurrect him? With magic?" "What? No, that would be ridiculous" says his dad. "But what I can do is provide you with a near-identical replacement. Now look at this." He hands the device to Corinth. On its screen is an image of Nate Lusher, just with longer hair, like a stereotype surfer dude's hair. "So... so Nate survived somehow? He never had hair this long anytime I knew him..." "No, son, no" Mortimus corrects, delighted at having the task of patiently shepherding his son to the truth of the matter. "That there is not your Nathan Lusher. I have scoured all the available, er, livestock throughout my web of underworld connections, and found you this near-perfect match." Some would find this a poor substitute. A different person who happens to look almost exactly the same. That's no replacement, they might say. But Corinth isn't sentimental. And, damn, this dude sure does look a hell of a lot like what he sooooo wanted to fuck. And this time he wouldn't be so careless about him, like he was about the original Nate. Oh yeah, and that Dean too, he guesses. Mortimus can see in his son's eyes that he has already made his choice. This is just too tempting. "See that basket symbol pulsing in the corner of the screen, son?" Mortimus goads. "You just press that, just stroke it with your thumb, that's all it'll take -- and your all-new Nate Lusher is as good as yours" Corinth looks at the slow throb of the icon. "What is his name?" "Whatever you like, son. Call him 'Nate' if you wish" "Yeah, but what is it really?" "He's called Jordon Lunar. Apparently." "Jordon Lunar?" Corinth thinks. "I like that. Oh sure then, I'll take him." He presses the button. Chase watches this transaction dumbfounded. It's carried out like the body at the two Cardinals' feet wasn't still warm. Corinth hands him back the pad, almost jamming it into his dad's hand and crumpling the precious scroll a little. Mortimus flinches, taking the pad with the other hand. "A little care please, son!" he says with forced levity, suppressing his customary rage at the boy. "And you'll sign here?" "Why not, this pair of faggots are getting to be nothing but trouble. Oh boy, "Jordon Lunar". I'm really liking that name. Sounds cool. Um, get your doctor round here to take the blood outta me and transfer it to a pen so I can sign. I ain't a fucking savage, you know." "And, ah, who do you nominate to offer up as a human sacrifice, lad?" Corinth is still repeating the name 'Jordon Lunar', snatching the electronic pad back from his dad to take another look. "Man, he's hot, isn't he? Gotta be an actual surf dude ... whassat? Sacrifice? Oh well, why not take Chase?" Corinth even reaches out to rest an indicative hand on Chase Phaeder's shoulder. "He's getting kind of whiney " Corinth continues. "If I'm clearing out the rest of these guys, may as well have a whole change of scene." Corinth walks off, thrashing out a couple more details with his dad - like how soon he can get his hands on Nate Lusher mk II. Left behind, still on the sofa, Chase is as white as a sheet, and as still as a statue. He stares blankly ahead for long moments and then his eyes flood with tears. His face, a uniquely beautiful face unlike any other you have ever seen, seems to regress. This strong young man has never looked younger, or more like a child. This is it. He is doomed. And then Corinth comes darting back, and slaps him playfully on the face, tugging at his cheek. "Ha! Gotcha man! Like I would ever do that to you. I told you, you're my good boy, and you're gonna be rewarded! My dad's got his finger's in a whole bunch of pies, yeah, and this deal doesn't go ahead without him setting you up with a nice, easy, big-paying job somewhere in the Cardinal empire. Ain't that right dad?" His father rolls his eyes. "If you insist, son. What's one more amateur." "Oh, stick him somewhere really high-paying that doesn't matter. You still got that record label?" Chase cries hugely now, somewhere between horror and relief. So happy to still be alive, he doesn't know how he can ever live with himself again. Chase wraps a boney arm around him. "Yeah. been a big day for you, I guess. Best decision you ever made, sticking with me when that asshole came smashing in here. Between you and me, I've always been kind of pulling strings to keep you in this city, stopping you getting any kind of good job. But now --- you've pleased me, Chase. And doors are gonna open for you!" Corinth lets the big dude finish his crying, satisfied with the sobbed "thank you"s he hears amidst it. Guys like Chase have these mixed feelings about making deals with the devil, Corinth knows that and lets him shed these burdensome emotions. Kind of adorable, really. "So, not him?" Mortimus asks quietly as they step away from Chase. "There's still a life owed, then" He looks off to the helicoper. A musical note adds a sense of... what? "I'm sure we can find someone, pop. I wonder what Brett Dillinger's up to these days ... anyway, anything, anything. Whatever you like ... so just so long as I get to be this Jordon's keeper!" Fade to black. There is a click and whirr from the video machinery as the next movie on the playlist begins. Electronic title card appears in bright red: RAMON'S BEATING ...