The last thing Corey remembered, before the hospital, before being carried out of the compound in the arms of Phoebus, was the dreadful realization that Luxus had returned, but on the wrong side of history.

Before this whole heroism business, Corey had looked up to Luxus. It was hard to imagine that his hero had turned dark. Maybe there was something to the old adage. Maybe the ones that didn’t die heroes did live to become villains. It was a sobering thought, one that haunted him as he lay on his hospital bed.

His left eye throbbed, swollen shut. He felt like he’d had the shit beaten out of him. He certainly looked the part. Blunt-force trauma. It probably explained the memory loss. But the shiner that graced half of his face wasn’t the worst of it. His entire body throbbed. Like he’d been repeatedly run over with an old 18-wheeler. Although, sometimes, whenever the pain meds temporarily ran out, he felt more he’d crashed head-first into a contragrav train going at full speed.

Even now that he was out of danger, Corey was still having trouble keeping track of time. He faintly knew that it had been a few days since the junior team found him and brought him in for treatment, but he’d been drifting in and out of consciousness ever since. He was pretty sure that they had tried to interview him at some point, but his injuries had just been so severe that the conversation went nowhere fast.

He wished he could recover faster but since super-healing was one of the talents that never manifested, he had to get better the old-fashioned way. From the fragments of conversation he’d managed to glean, between the doctors and the heroes that visited him, apparently he was lucky to be alive. The doctors said that he had been severely dehydrated and malnourished, starved to the brink of death, with more broken bones than they knew to deal with.

All of it was pretty fuzzy in his head, attempted debriefing included, if he was being honest. He hated that. Not the loss of control. That was one of his fetishes, after all. No. It was the inability to trust his own mind that just sucked on some profound level. Usually, when everything else failed him, he had his mind to fall back on. Right now, even that wasn’t an option.

Whenever he had a chance, he did his best to prepare for the inevitable debriefing once the top brass at the hall decided that he had recovered enough. Problem was that no matter how much he tried to wrack his mind, he couldn’t muster anything but the faintest recollections of events that had transpired during his captivity.

Maybe it was some small mercy from the universe that he couldn’t remember how all his bones had been broken. Still, it just felt wrong that he couldn’t remember anything. Being confined at the hospital didn’t help. Apart from the well-wishes of the people of Selene City, the cushy ward and the great food—at least, when he could keep it down—were the only consolation.

Corey was interrupted from his thoughts by a brief knock at the door. "Come in," he croaked, clearing his throat as he gingerly shifted himself into a sitting position.

The door swung open and in walked a perfect physical replica of Corey. Not a hair was out of place and the doppelganger even showed off his trademark lopsided grin. "I do love getting to be you, Corey," said Corey’s double, "I wouldn’t mind if you got captured more. I don’t get to cover for you nearly enough."

Corey rolled his eyes and just watched as his body double peeled off the tight university sweater that showed off the firm, muscular physique of his borrowed body. "Fuck off, Castor," said Corey, playfully, as the doppelganger stripped out of his street clothes and threw them onto the couch by the bed.

Castor, the morph, hadn’t seen active duty in probably two decades or so. But he was an important hero, nonetheless. He was one of a number of morph-type supers in the Hall roster that "filled in" for captured/missing heroes to keep their identities secret. They only did so for long enough to make up a believable excuse for being gone, but it was invaluable.

In Corey’s case, it was fortunate that summer break had been just around the corner when he was captured and the "went on holiday with family" excuse worked pretty well.

Right now, Castor was masquerading as Corey again just to show off that he had not come back at the same time as Tempest. Just to make sure that no one suspected his true identity. Corey was grateful for it all, but he didn’t like it. It felt weird that someone else was living part of his life.

Corey watched Castor as the hero smoothed down the front of his thin, skin-tight adaptive suit. The translucent fabric left very little to the imagination and while what was underneath was intimately familiar to Corey, it being his body, there was still something trippy about seeing a perfect replica of his own cock erect, throbbing, and leaking under the semi-transparent super-suit.

With a scoff, Corey said, "Let’s not pretend that you don’t transform into me when you’re alone at night to jerk off in front of the mirror."

Castor stuck his tongue out at Corey. "Oh yeah," he purred, rubbing his erection through his suit just to see the flustered look on Corey’s face. "I just loooooove to edge your big cock until it explodes all over your pretty face and tight abs," Castor added, with a sardonic grin.

Castor worked his fingers back over his scalp as he transformed back into his normal self. The brown locks that sat on his head turned to sleek jet black as Castor brushed his hair back. The rugged, masculine jawline that he’d borrowed from Corey faded away into the softer, more boyish look that Castor preferred. "You know, if you ever wanted to make porn money but didn’t want to do any of the effort, I’d be more than happy to volunteer."

Despite being fifty years of age according to the Hall’s records, Castor neither looked nor acted his age. It was almost like he’d never grown past the age of twenty, which was the age he’d joined the Hall. It was weird to think that Castor was so much older than he looked.

Corey just shook his head, choosing to ignore Castor’s comment about porn. "Anyway," he said, "do you have anything to report?"

"No," said Castor. There was a note of sympathy in his voice that made Corey bristle. "Not much. I just walked around town for a bit. Had lunch at your favorite place. Made sure people could see me."

Corey nodded along. That sounded good. "A couple of friends came up to say hi, but that was about it," said Castor. "You know… For a popular kid and a well-loved hero, I have to say that I’m surprised you don’t have more close friends…"

"So what?" said Corey, looking away. He didn’t need to dignify the not-so-subtle jab any further than he already had by responding.

---

There wasn’t a more opportune time for Tempest to make his official return to service in Selene City than when Luxus showed up to cause chaos. There was a pretty big hubbub going on downtown. The mayor was bequeathing the key to the city to a pop star that had apparently grown up in Tranquility, a suburb south of the city center.

But the ceremony wasn’t the target of the fallen hero’s villainy. While everyone and their grandmother was distracted by the pseudo-concert taking place in front of city hall, Luxus was making quick work of the security at three separate banks downtown. By all reckoning, SIBYL said as Tempest was flying to the scene, Luxus’ speed seemed to have improved hundredfold from the last time he was on active duty.

Tempest could just imagine what sort of deal with the devil Luxus had made to experience such a precipitous increase in the potency of his abilities. Such a spike in power over the course of a few years was nigh-unheard of in the world of supers. The only exception was when an amplifier-type super was involved. But power amplification was acutely temporary. SIBYL couldn’t explain the difference in Luxus’ abilities. At least, not without some medical examination.

Even though he was nervous about jumping right back into the crime fighting gig, especially against a super like Luxus, he was hoping that he could capture the fallen hero. Everyone wanted to know if Luxus had truly turned his back on truth and justice and how he’d become so powerful so quickly, both questions that could be answered if Tempest managed to bring the fallen hero in.

Tempest landed in a dark alley near one of the banks that Luxus was robbing. He watched the fallen hero zoom back and forth for a moment, observing the pattern to narrow his timing. He called upon his power and felt the lightning crackling at his fingertips. He vibrated with nervous energy as sparks danced along the curve of his spine. His eyes glowed incandescent with light.

The best part of going up against a speedster-type like Luxus was that the friction they generated—though minimized by their suits—meant that they built up negative electric charge on their bodies. It made hitting them with lightning child’s play.

After making sure that his earplugs were firmly seated, Tempest loosed his lightning just as Luxus rounded the bend. The exhilaration as he released the coiled up energy was enough to make him hard. Not only that, but there was so much more power, so much more lightning in that single blast that he was stunned. He felt truly mighty as a torrent of electricity shot out of his arm and slammed into Luxus, throwing the fallen hero clean off the asphalt and into the wall of a nearby building.

"The fuck was that?" Tempest breathed, staring at his hands.

SIBYL chose that moment to chime in. Typically the AI waited until queried or until necessary so as to prevent unnecessary distraction, but there was a tinge of wonder in her voice as she said "That was three hundred percent the maximum voltage that you were able to build up when you were last tested."

But that made no sense. Tempest was last tested just a few months ago. He hadn’t done any additional training and he had had no profound self-realizations that could lead to unlocking new power. The only significant thing that had happened to him recently was getting captured. "Luxus is getting away," said SIBYL, jarring Tempest out of his thoughts.

Tempest leaped into action. Luxus staggered out of the crater in the wall that the lightning had blasted him into and with shaky legs, he made a break for it. Tempest followed close behind. The speedster had clearly been unbalanced because he wasn’t running anywhere near as fast as he should have been able to.

Luxus sped out of the city bounds. Tempest followed, landing as Luxus darted into the woods to the south. As he walked through the trees, he realized that he could sense a faint imprint of Luxus’ path. Static charge left behind by the speedster was slowly discharging into the air. This was a new aspect of Tempest’s powers, but he didn’t have time to explore it. He followed the faint tingling feeling deeper into the woods.

He came into a clearing and found Luxus leaning against a tree at the far edge. There were holes burned into his suit and smoke curling from the edges where the friction of his running had burned away the fabric. He looked in a lot worse shape than Tempest had expected. "Well, well, well," said Luxus, voice hoarse, "If it isn’t the little thundercloud."

"Give up, Luxus," said Tempest, sparks crackling between his fingers. "I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to."

Contrary to how Tempest might have expected someone who just got blasted with the most powerful lightning bolt he could conjure, Luxus laughed at him. "Oh yeah?" said the fallen hero, straightening. "What are you going to do? Shoot me with another bolt of lightning? Try. It will kill me. And I was in those shoes for long enough that I know you’re going to want to capture me."

Tempest bristled at the jab. "I can control my lightning," he growled, feeling the energy crackling just underneath his skin. He could feel the sparks jumping from the corners of his eyes, the lightning arcing from his legs to the ground. It was like he was a spring, just waiting to be released.

"Can you really?" said Luxus, with a small smirk. The unflappable look on Luxus’ face made Tempest doubt himself. That moment was all it took for the pressure in his body to find some release. A crackling bolt arced from his shoulder to a tree behind him. It exploded, sap instantly turning to steam, blasting a hole in the side of the trunk and showering him with splinters. Reluctantly, Tempest let the energy subside.

"I will still stop you," he said, through gritted teeth, even though he didn’t feel nearly as confident as he had earlier.

"How? Try to blow me over with a blast of wind? Call down a tornado on where we’re standing?" Luxus grinned. "I might not be as fast as I want to be right now, but you and I both know that the only thing you can do that can catch me is your lightning. So why don’t you give up?"

"Never," Tempest hissed, taking a step forward into the clearing. "I will bring you to justice, Luxus. I don’t care that you fought beside us. I will do whatever it takes to protect my city."

Tempest called on his lightning again. He would use it if he had to, even though he was sure he wouldn’t. It was strange that he felt like he couldn’t control it when he had always had the ability to modulate the voltage that he produced.

But even so, Luxus was wrong. He could think of a hundred different ways to apprehend the fallen hero without relying on his lightning. It was just more of an insurance policy. While he held on to his lightning, Tempest knew Luxus wouldn’t dare use his speed because it would only make it easier to hit him.

"Pfft," Luxus chuckled. He seemed amused by the bravado, but unimpressed. He had a small smirk on his face, totally not the expression of someone who was supposed to be cornered. "Be a good jockboy and run along home to the Hall just like you’re supposed to."

Tempest froze. The lightning crackling at his fingertips discharged harmlessly into the air. He shivered as a chill crept up his spine. He felt something similar to a trickle of ice-cold water slowly pouring over his head.

He felt fuzzy. Foggy. Empty. He struggled to think, his thoughts slowing to a crawl as though they were embedded in molasses. His cock surged to full hardness as his hole twitched. His jaw went slack as his eyes glazed over and a moan slipped past his lips. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell what. It was like the entire world was in slow motion. His mind, in slow motion.

The next thing he knew there was a fist in his gut and he was flying backward into a tree. The strange sensation lifted, but Tempest still felt like his brain had been replaced by cotton candy. He felt so empty, so horny. If it weren’t for the fact that he was fighting Luxus, he would have been unable to resist the compulsion to masturbate.

He didn’t get nearly long enough to struggle with his slow thoughts as Luxus came in to land another blow. This time, across his cheek. He pitched sideways into the forest floor, brown leaves crunching his head hit the ground. His ears rang from the force of the blow. "Still think you can stop me, little thundercloud?" said Luxus.

Tempest crawled onto his hands and knees. He tried to call for his lightning, but it wouldn’t come. He tried to summon the winds, or muster the concentration to fly, but he couldn’t manage to focus for long enough to do either. His cock throbbed insistently between his legs. He felt so hot. So horny. So empty.

He didn’t know what was happening to him, or how to get out of it. But he knew that without his gifts he was powerless to stop the speedster. "S-SIBYL. I need help!" he said, only to notice his communicator under the heel of Luxus’ foot. The crunch of polyglass told him that he wouldn’t be getting any backup any time soon.

"Should have given up when you had the chance, little thundercloud," said Luxus mockingly as he sped to where Tempest was crawling on the forest floor and delivered a solid kick to his side. Tempest grunted and fell flat on his face. He was sure that blow had cracked a rib.

"No…" Tempest gasped, through the pain. "Never," he said, forcing himself back on all fours. Then it hit him. A moment of miraculous serendipity. He wasn’t powerless. He had his secret weapon. Something he’d never had to use before. There was still a chance.

He pushed himself up, sitting on his feet. He hooked his fingers under the hood of his super-suit and tossed it back. Sweat-soaked locks of brown hair flipped over his forehead.

He was so absorbed in preparing to unleash his secret weapon that even though he noticed that Luxus had stopped to watch, he didn’t find anything wrong with it. A small part of him objected to the thought of using his secret weapon, but that small voice in the back of his head couldn’t articulate why.

After a few moments of fumbling with the seam at his neck, Tempest clambered to his feet and stepped out of his super suit. His rock-hard cock bobbed up and down in front of him. "Looks like the little thundercloud has a pretty big bolt," said Luxus, with a small smirk.

"This is where I’ll stop you, Luxus," said Tempest. He adopted a heroic stance, puffing his chest out and placing his fists on his hips. His erection pointed the way forward. "You are a formidable foe, but even you are no match for my ultimate weapon!" he said. The line was so cheesy. He sounded like a cartoon superhero. But it felt just right.

Tempest turned around. He walked to the nearest tree trunk and placed his hands on the rough bark. He shimmied his legs apart and bent over at the waist, pushing his ass out. "Let’s see you try to resist this ass, Luxus," said Tempest, holding his arms over his head as he arched his back as much as he could manager.

"No!" Luxus cried out. "Not this! What have you done, Tempest?" A half a heartbeat later, Tempest felt hands on his hips, a hard cock rubbing up and down his crack. "Curse you, hero!" said Luxus, despair clear in his voice.

"You should have given up when you had the cha—AAH—nce!" said Tempest, his voice rising and breaking as he felt Luxus’ mighty speedster rod enter him. He moaned, pushing his hips backward. It felt good. So good. But he knew that it felt a thousand times better for the fallen hero. It was why no one could resist.

Every thrust, every pump of Luxus’ hips was harder, faster, and more brutal than the last. Tempest tried to keep up, bucking his own hips to meet Luxus’ pistoning. In order for the trap to work, he had to get as much of Luxus’ hard rod inside of him. He was trying. And Luxus was getting so deep.

But Tempest wasn’t a speedster. Eventually he just couldn’t keep up. Luxus was pounding him with such speed and brutality that he really couldn’t do anything more than moan and brace himself against the tree for support. His own rock-hard cock was steadily dripping pre-cum as the fallen hero pummeled his prostate mercilessly.

He felt the orgasm building rapidly. His body was wound tight like a spring. His back arched. His toes curled. His fingers dug into the bark of the tree. Luxus pumped into him viciously and erratically, having lost all rhythm.

The pleasure built and built and built until suddenly, the dam burst. He heard Luxus’ howl of pleasure. Then, he felt the first shot of cum painting his insides white. His own cock sprayed the forest floor with his super-spunk as his mind went completely and utterly blank. His eyes rolled back in his head. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling out with a trickle of drool.

When Tempest recovered from his orgasm, he realized that Luxus was still inside him. He looked over his shoulder and saw the speedster hunched over, panting. Without a second thought, Tempest pulled away, turned around, and with all his might punched the fallen hero in the face. Luxus crumpled to the ground, defeated.

---

Corey stood alone in his room, still in his Tempest suit. But his mind was elsewhere. He remembered chasing Luxus into the woods. He remembered bringing Luxus in to the Hall of Heroes. What happened in between was more like a few snapshots of memory rather than one continuous block.

He remembered using his secret weapon. Giving up his ass. He remembered how it felt to get fucked by a speedster, his entire body vibrating from the ferocity of the pounding he’d received. He remembered how fuzzy he felt. How horny. How stupid. Like his brains were getting fucked out of him.

He definitely also remembered how satisfied he felt afterwards, the fact that it had nothing to do with his capture of Luxus. He remembered the sensation of walking into the Hall of Heroes with a hole still buzzing from the fucking he’d received, with cum dripping down the insides of his thighs.

Something wasn’t right. He just knew it. But he couldn’t figure out what. Nothing immediately jumped out at him as out of place. The sound of his phone buzzing on his desk jarred him out of his thoughts. He picked it up and saw a notification for a text message. It was from an unknown number.

He blinked. He could have sworn he had received a text message. But there was nothing there. He was about to set down the phone when he realized that there was something he’d almost forgotten to do. He dialed a number and waited until the person on the other end picked up. "Hey, Castor," he said. "I don’t know if you heard, but apparently this Azure Flame group is about to stir trouble in Seaside City. The Hall wants me there to help out since I have some… experience with them. Could you cover for me for a few days?"

"Yeah? Thanks!" said Corey. "And… Uh… If you don’t mind… I actually met this really great guy… We were supposed to have a date on Friday but… Yeah. Okay. Thanks. Just, please don’t scare him off. Yeah… He’s really cute."

"What? No. I haven’t seen his dick. Jesus. What do you think I am, some cheap whore?" Corey shook his head.

"But let me tell you, he has the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen."