Tempest hooked his fingers under the hood of his super suit. The skin-tight midnight blue fabric clung to every chiseled plane of his body. He was tempted to call it a costume, because that was exactly what it was, but the engineers at the Hall of Heroes might have had a few colorful words to say about his choice of terminology.

Hard to blame them, as they had poured blood, sweat, and tears into the construction of the suit. But still, suit-versus-costume was a weird hill to want to die on. Then again, maybe they wouldn’t care about his private thoughts, but frankly he was too exhausted to make a stand on the matter, even in principle.

It wasn’t like the day had been particularly stressful. It was just the combination of circumstances that sapped the strength from his bones. He remembered the beginning, when he’d been thoroughly enamored with the idea of being a superhero, but the novelty had worn off pretty quickly.

One would think that the constant barrage of supervillains threatening to take over the world or cause untold damage to social society would keep life pretty spicy the whole time, but the truth was that once you’d spent a couple of years in the business, everything turned out pretty samey. Sure, supervillains would come out with new powers or novel ways to apply old powers but there was remarkably little in terms of diversity in villain motivations.

That being said, Tempest was feeling the burnout more these days because midterms were just over the horizon. He hadn’t been able to get a lick of sleep between studying for them and pursuing the Burning Baron, an up-and-coming supervillain with a knack for arson.

He had never personally dealt with a pyromaniac super before but from what he understood, they tended to be the megalomaniacal kind. The Burning Baron was no different in that respect, but infinitely stupider than his predecessor Draconis Rex, who had been the nemesis of Tempest’s mentor, Lord Fulminant.

Thanks in no small part to being exceptionally gullible for a supervillain, the Burning Baron, birth name Randall Brock, was now in the custody of the Hall of Heroes.

This meant that, for a couple of hours at least, Tempest was free to be Corey Cooper once again. While it was already 9 in the evening, too late for him to go out, he had every intention of making the most of that time.

Primarly by jerking off. Because he was pent up, and because he couldn’t be bothered to look for a fuckbuddy. Not to mention the fact that he yearned for something that no one he knew could possibly give him.

Corey peeled the suit off himself and tossed it unceremoniously at the pile of laundry by the foot of his bed. He was sure that the engineers would have something to say about that, too, but he was beyond caring.

The feeling of the cold air against his buttocks, framed by the straps of a sleek blue jock, sent a shiver up his spine and made his cock twitch in its cotton pouch. He enjoyed being basically naked under the suit. It made him feel a little naughty, knowing that if the suit was just a little more see-through, the entire world would see his muscular behind on display.

He rubbed his cock through the pouch of his underwear as he hopped into the seat in front of his computer. He pulled the pouch aside, letting his half-hard cock flop out between his legs. He picked up his headset and put it on his head.

He pulled up a browser and clicked through to what was probably his most-used bookmark. He wondered what number it would display, if it tracked the number of clicks on it. Probably in the low hundreds… though he wouldn’t be surprised if it was more than that.

The news article loaded up almost instantaneously. Corey licked his lips as he swept the cursor toward the archived footage. This was a bit of a guilty pleasure, one that he could never admit. He could only imagine how people would react if he admitted that he had cum harder and more often to this footage than to the clips that were considered the hottest porn.

The video didn’t even buffer. Corey was glad for it. In the past, it had taken a minute or so to load the footage, which had felt like an eternity for Corey. Now that the Margin had uploaded its archive to the modern web, though, loading times had been virtually eliminated.

He shifted in his seat. He pulled the video into full screen and let it play. The footage of the newscast opened as it always did, with a panorama shot of Seaside City in shambles. Thick black plumes of smoke rose from a few nearby buildings while the glass windows of their neighbors reflected the cinder-red glow of the fires raging inside them.

"Breaking news. Scenes of chaos dominate the streets as the assault of fallen heroes Starbull and Comet continues in downtown Seaside City. The authorities are struggling to mitigate the damage while evacuating the civilian population, but the situation continues to escalate. We’re heading to Kevin Farseer, reporting live from outside city hall."

The footage switched to the ground level as a field reporter came into the picture. He was hiding behind a chunk of fallen concrete, bent and twisted rebar sticking out from the jagged sides of the slab. He had a big gash across his forehead, with blood trickling down the side of his face.

But Corey didn’t care about him. He knew that he should have cared, being a superhero and all. But this was one of the few times that his moral compass simply shut down for the convenience of enjoying a fantasy.

Whenever he watched this footage back, his cock was hard and leaking. It was difficult to think of anything but getting off. And the anticipation of what was to come only made it harder. Right now, he wasn’t Tempest, the superhero dedicated to justice. Right now he was just Corey Cooper, a boy desperate to get his rocks off.

The reporter spoke in hushed tones, fear apparent in his eyes. "T-Thank you, Susan. Two hours ago, this place was the site of a beautiful ceremony celebrating the inauguration of the Memorial to the Lost, but the event was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Starbull and Comet."

A female voice cut into the report as the footage from the ground was moved aside to split the screen with the anchor. "Are we sure that it’s Starbull and Comet?" said the woman, Susan.

"That’s right. A-As you might remember, Susan, three years ago, Starbull and Comet disappeared following an assignment to investigate an anomalous signal outside the city boundaries. They were presumed dead after no sign of them was ever found.

"A few minutes ago I was with Mistcarver, one of the heroes sent to deal with the ongoing crisis and he said that the Hall is pretty certain that the two villains to blame for today’s events are indeed Starbull and Comet"

Corey squeezed his cock as the anchor spoke. It was almost time. "Does the Hall know how and why these heroes have suddenly turned against everything they once stood for?" said Susan.

Silly Susan, Corey thought to himself. It had been pretty obvious, even back then. The fallen heroes were mind-controlled. Or had been. Corey doubted that Starbull and Comet were still being held against their will after three years. They had most likely been broken, or taken in so deep that they willingly subjugated themselves at this point. The idea made Corey’s cock throb.

"They have made no comments in that respect, Susan," said the field reporter. A loud crash in the distance made the reporter look over his shoulder. "But we have received conflicting reports that there is, in fact, a third villain on the scene today."

The reporter trailed off as he came into the scene. Tall. Handsome. Strong jaw. Muscular body. Piercing blue eyes that felt like they could bore right into your soul. He was Imperious, easily the most notorious supervillain that even the Hall of Heroes, with all its might, tiptoed around.

No one could resist Imperious’ power. Many had tried. Trying was as far as they got. If he actually put in the effort, Corey was sure that Imperious could take control of the entire commonwealth. The only reason that he hadn’t was that he seemed content to terrorize Seaside City for whatever reason.

Corey squeezed his cock. The reporter had stopped talking to stare in awe. Not only was Imperious’ presence commanding, he had also come on a rich, royal blue palanquin with golden trim borne by the two fallen heroes that had caused such devastation in Seaside City.

This was where he really got into the fantasy. It was so hot. He didn’t pay as much attention to Imperious here, because the supervillain was just looking around. No. He focused on Starbull and Comet. The two fallen heroes had shed their costumes and were wearing what Corey assumed was their "at-home" uniform for their lord and master.

Their slackjawed expression, blank eyes, and drool trickling from the tips of their chins made Corey so hard. The massive cocks dangling between their legs, locked behind chastity cages attached by gold chains to the collars around their necks, made Corey wish that he was locked up. And last, but certainly not least, the thick rubber tails plugged into their assholes made his pucker twitch.

Every now and again, the two brutes would squeeze their thighs together, pre-cum dripping from the tips of their locked cocks. They chuckled, their voices so deep, monotonous, and dull. They sounded so mindless. So dumb. Corey yearned to be one of them.

That was his dark secret. His guilty pleasure. He fantasized about being enslaved, turned into little more than a living fucktoy against his will. He tried to tell himself that it was only a fantasy, but more and more he felt like he would be willing to give up his 4.0 GPA, his prestigious position as star quarterback of his university team, and even his identity as the superhero Tempest if only he could belong body, mind, and soul to Imperious.

Corey gripped his cock tight and pumped his hand up and down. His breath hitched in his throat in between strokes. Any moment now, Imperious would dismount from his palanquin to introduce his newest conquest, the so-called savior of Seaside City.

This hero used to be one of the best and brightest stars of the Hall of Heroes. Possessed with superhuman strength, the ability to fly, and near-invincibility, few villains could stand toe-to-toe with him. But as the Hammer walked out from the burning husk of a nearby building, eyes rolled up into the back of his head, it was clear that the once-unconquerable hero had been conquered.

The Hammer was wearing nothing but a leather harness that made a mockery of his superhero emblem. The silver hammer normally emblazoned on his chest was still there, but the haft was half-buried in a fat, muscular ass.

Around the Hammer’s neck was a thick cast iron collar. His cock was locked in a cage that seemed to strain around his significant endowment. And as he crossed the debris-littered square toward Imperious, the rubber balls of a dildo wedged between his mountainous ass cheeks could be seen in the video.

Corey gasped. He was close. So close. He clenched his teeth and tensed his legs. He couldn’t cum yet. Not yet. Not until Imperious made his speech.

He watched as the Hammer fell to his knees in front of Imperious and reached behind himself to pump his dildo in and out of his sloppy muscle cunt. "Please fuck me, master" the Hammer begged. Imperious just smirked and kicked the hero to the dirt.

The villain said nothing, but the message was clear, "You haven’t earned it."

Corey imagined that it was him in that position. A powerful hero, the thorn in many a supervillain’s side, reduced to nothing more than a simpering little bitch with a locked cock, desperately craving his master’s cum.

He wasn’t as big as the Hammer, being more streamlined than bulky, but he was willing to bet that his ass would look better than the Hammer’s, bouncing on that dildo. His fist pumped faster up and down his slick shaft. He moaned. Fuck. If he had been in the Hammer’s place, he would have shoved his nose right into Imperious’s crotch just to show that he had become an eager, mindless slave.

Corey grunted as Imperious approached the camera. His heart fluttered in his chest. It was like his brain short-circuited whenever he watched those deep, inviting blue eyes approaching him. It was like he forgot the morality that he prided himself on, letting go of all his hang-ups about his deeply depraved fantasy.

It was like his thoughts slowed to a crawl. He couldn’t think of looking away. Couldn’t imagine anything other than sex. Specifically in the context of serving Imperious.

He whimpered and bit his lower lip, pumping his cock faster and faster, riding the edge because he knew that the payoff was coming, and that it would be worth it.

The camera didn’t move. It never did. Corey’s best guess was that the cameraman had been caught under Imperious’ influence. So Imperious was able to walk right up and force a kiss on the slack-jawed reporter before pushing him away to take up the entire screen.

Imperious’ blue eyes were so deep that Corey felt he could fall right into them. Then, that sweet baritone voice that sent shivers down his spine and up his cock began to speak. "Listen to me, heroes_."_ Imperious said the last word with such contempt that Corey felt blood rush to his cheeks in shame at being a hero. _"I am coming for you. All of you. You will all be mine."

With those words, Corey gave himself permission. He stumbled right over the edge. His back arched off the chair, his hole twitching, his toes curling, his cock pulsing and throbbing. Cum sprayed from the tip of his cock, crackling with the lightning that he had been born to sling.

As cum splattered across his chest and face, the wet spots sent shocks of electric pleasure through his body, intensifying his orgasm. He threw his head back and screamed, "Ohhhh! Imperious! Make me yours!"

Panting as he came down from the intense orgasm, Corey swirled a finger around the cum that had pooled on his abs. He brought it up to his mouth and sucked it clean. He moaned at the salty-sweetness that filled his senses as the cum slid down the back of his throat. He imagined that it was Imperious’ cum as he slicked his finger up with some more and shoved it up his hole.

This was all so wrong. But it also felt so right. He was a hero. But he was lusting after a villain. Not only that, but he actively wanted to be enslaved by the villain and used to commit evil around the world.

It wasn’t something that he could let happen in good conscience. That was why he told himself it was just a fantasy, a dirty fetish that he indulged in the privacy of his own bedroom, but one that he would never give himself to in real life. But the truth was that he just wasn’t sure he could resist the siren song.

Luckily for him, Imperious stayed in Seaside City. Chances were that he would never run into the supervillain. Because deep down he knew that if Imperious ever confronted him, he’d fall to his knees, powers of domination or not.