Date: Sat, 9 Jul 2011 16:44:47 +0100
From: Davey R <lsgoodb@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: BlueShark-Video-9

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 to be
clear, any movies, actors, television shows, comic books, etc, named are
totally fictional.

(except for Kyros Christian's hair, which is both real and awesome)


--------------------------------------------------------------------

BlueShark Video 9

JORDON'S KEEPER resumes.

Establishing shot of a tall, thin building in western Sol Casali. Here are
the offices of the Sol Sentinel, the city's prestigious daily
newspaper. Over a hundred years in print, it's a publication that has
exposed citywide scandals, brought down presidents, and documented the
adventures of the Mighty Sun Surfer from day one of his superheroic
career. Standing tall and shining with bright blue light in the fierce
scarlet dusk of Sol Casali, it is heroic and imperious; like the sword of
truth itself.

We track back to see one of its neighbours in what has long been the city's
press district. A smaller, squat brownstone building, altogether shabbier
and more anonymous. In here are the offices of the Sol Reporter, the city's
downmarket tabloid.

Inside,sitting at his computer and loosening off his best silk tie after a
long day's work, we find Devin Trasseno. A journalist in his mid-twenties,
Trasseno is one of the publication's star reporters. He's a notorious and
much-derided figure among the more scrupulous members of the city's press -
his sensationalist work is constantly being derided by the Sol Sentinel,
but always ensures buoyant, healthy sales of the Reporter. Much of his
success comes from his charm and rogueish good looks. He's always able to
twist his interviewees around his little finger. With clipped black curls,
rich brown eyes and a permanent dark stubble, he's also tall and broad
shouldered, if a little lean. Olive skinned, he's conspicuously less tanned
than many of the city's residents, thanks to the amount of time he spends
penned up in these shadowy offices.

That's the other key to his success. Long hours, and ruthlessness in
pursuit of a story. During the summer months especially, there's not a
daylight hour you won't find him either here or out chasing a story. In the
winter months, though, when nightfall comes a little earlier, his hours are
that much shorter.

Night, he tells his colleagues, is when he goes out to party. He lives the
life right - working hard and playing hard.

There's also Devin's passion for the job. Here, tonight, we find him
putting the finishing touches to some shameless editorialising on the
subject of that civic menace the Mighty Sun Surfer. His gruff editor lets
him get away with this because he's found the Reporter's anti-Surfer
campaign shifts papers in their thousands. There's a strong conservative
backbone to this city that thinks justice should left purely in the hands
of the lawmakers. A similar number of citizens also think there's something
suspect about the superhero's darting around in that strange flamboyant
outfit, and have some vague idea about wanting to protect their children
from it. Others still quietly resent the Surfer's physical fitness and
jealously calculate the amount of pussy he must get.

A number of the staff in the Sol Reporter offices treat the paper's crusade
against the superhero as something of a joke. They go along with it, they
write contemptuous articles, poke snarky fun at his attire and fire off
impromptu protests campaigns at the drop of a hat, but basically they're
just following house style. Many of those who denounce the 'golden
guardian' in print in fact admire or even idolise the Surfer. He's even
saved the lives of some of them before.

Not so Devin Trasseno. Oh, he acts like this all part of some joke he's
going along with, a whim of the paper's editor, but in fact his contempt
for the Mighty Sun Surfer is quite real. The man is his enemy.

So, as finishes and submits the last words of his article, there is a
sneering curl to his smile. He knows his words have an effect on the
thickheaded dupes of this city - the correspondence the paper always
receives in response to these articles is testament to that. He is both
confident and satisfied this this fresh diatribe will damage the reputation
of the solar-powered hero yet further.

Taking off his tie, putting it in his jacket pocket, he says his goodbyes
for the day to his favoured colleagues, flirts a little, heads home.

Darkness is falling and it's a full moon. He feels instantly invigorated as
he strides along the sidewalk, has to fake the shambolic gait of a man
who's been at work for hours and just wants a beer and some sleep. That old
magic is swelling up inside, these powers he's been gifted with that
energise him more than drugs, exercise, sex or a power nap ever could. He's
struggling to contain them in himself as he walks the few blocks to his
apartment building. It suits him living very close to the Reporter
offices. Obviously it's useful for his job, but it's often just as handy
for him to be able to get away from work and go somewhere private at short
notice.

By the time he gets there and makes his way up the stairwell, he's busting
for release. Fumbling with his keys and and storming into his small, sparse
apartment as quickly as he can, he wastes no time in taking off and
throwing away his jacket, and hastily unbuttoning his shirt. He can feel
those lunar energies rising up in his breast, and he's not about to see yet
another work shirt torn and ruined by the inconvenient eruption of his
unearthly abilities.

The shirt is thrown to the worn carpet in the nick of time. Sighing with
almost erotic pleasure, Devin slams his back against the wall,
outstretching his arms. He hasn't switched the light on, so stands bathed
in the raw moonlight from the window.

"I submit to you," he says to the moon, head tipped back and eyes
closed. "I submit to you ..."

It's not necessary that he says these words as part of the invocation
process; it's simply that they focus his mind on their meaning.

It begins in earnest. We watch as Devin Trasseno's lean, athletic body
builds in bulk, one muscle at a time. The pecs inflate, the biceps
swell. Jutting abs arise from his flat stomach, Suddenly his torso is all
ridges and curves.

His hair grows and curls rapidly, like speeded-up nature footage. The
clipped black girls erupt in a wild mane at the same time as his stubbly
bristles retract into his face, leaving it looking impossibly smooth, like
he's just the had the cleanest possible shave.

As the process ends, Devin checks himself out, flexing his big biceps
appreciatively. The transformation is amazing - as a scruffy journalist,
Devin Trasseno has a charming bad boy allure; but now, as he buffs up into
his alter-ego, the super-powered Eclipse, it's like his body and looks have
been cosmically made over to attain their perfect form. He's gone from an
attractive, flawed guy to an adonis.

We must assume this transformation helps maintain his secret
identity. Granted, he's obviously the same man, but no-one who knows him
could sensibly expect him to grow shoulder length hair, become clean shaven
and go up two suit sizes every evening - and then, even more improbably, to
transform back again the next day. With traditional comic book logic,
no-one has ever noticed the resemblance and joined the dots.

Devin removes his belt, unfastens his work pants before letting them drop
and kicking them off his equally toned legs. Hands on hips and with a
certain swagger, he steps over to his bedroom, the tiny walk-in closet he
uses to get into the outfit he wears fo his villainous exploits.

Moments later he emerges in his unlikely skintight ensemble, a rubber and
spandex creation in various shades of blue and black. He doesn't wear a
mask of any kind; he's found that no-one - even his closest colleagues -
ever seems to recognise him in this guise, in his Greek god perfection, so
further disguise seems unnecessary. A latter-day kind of superhero, he
doesn't bother with a cloak like some of the super-powered individuals of
old. The curves of his steely glutes are visible for all to see, and not a
bad selling point for the movie in some quarters. The costume cleaves
tightly around his chest and right up around his neck, but his suddenly
muscled arms are bare.

Been a hard day at work, he thinks. Time for some mischief.

But as he walks back into the living room, he's taken aback to find that
both his laptop and his television set appear to have switched themselves
on. And both are displaying a message, in bold, clear print:

DEVIN TRASSENO AKA ECLIPSE: WE HAVE AN OFFER YOU CANNOT RESIST.

GO WITHOUT DELAY TO THE PHONE BOOTH AT THE CORNER OF 1188th/542nd.

WE WILL CONTACT YOU THERE.

Devin runs his hand through his glorious mane of glossy black hair. Who
could have uncovered his secret identity? Who has the resources to reach
him through his TV and computer like this? For that matter, who would dare
incur his super-powered wrath by inviting him for a meeting? He can crush
the head of any mortal man like a paper cup, and has no inconvenient moral
code to prevent him from doing it. Anyone smart enough to reach him this
way must also be intelligent enough to realise that.

He relaxes a little as he decides this cannot possibly be the work of that
sunny do-gooder the Mighty Sun Surfer. The gold-clad clod would never do
anything this circuitous to trap him. Besides, his powers must be waning
rapidly this long after sunset.

He folds his arms, fondling his mighty biceps a little. He always welcomes
their reappearance in the evenings.

Yes, he decides. He'll go along and find out what this is about. There's
always time for some nefarious havoc-wreaking later.

He bounds from his apartment window, a blur visible to no-one.


------------

"So, you were able to cut a deal, huh son?" Mortimus Cardinal smiles as he
reverentially holds out the harness of Nephthys in front of him, examining
every detail.

"Yeah," drawls Corinth, standing nearby, his bony frame wrapped in various
leathers, black mascara applied haphazardly to his eyes. "But it was a damn
close thing. I lost more of my guys trying to find the place than I
expected. I only had six left by the time we were face to face with that
smokey goddess lady ..."

"Yes yes, I know, son. And the scrolls told us the Nephthys Incarnate would
demand six blood sacrifices, three for each of these harnesses."

"Exactly!" Corinth nods emphatically, gesturing excitedly with his arms. "I
only had just enough left. Fuck knows what would have happened if one more
of my guys had got themselves smoked on the way..."

Mortimus has an amusing thought as he studies the artefact, not looking
over at his son. "I'm sure you'd have volunteered to make the ultimate
sacrifice, my boy, so that the Mighty Sun Surfer can fall."

Corinth puts his hands on his hip, adopting an 'oh, very funny' face. "Hey,
and anyway, I did make a sacrifice. I had to say goodbye to Nathan Lusher,
which I really didn't want to do."

"Oh, shame" Mortimus mutters indifferently. "And who might that be?"

Corinth scratches his head irritably. "This awesome blonde football player
from my school. I'd only just, you know, 'persuaded' him to join the
Corinthians before we had to go on your little fuckin' Egypt trip. Hadn't
even had a chance to bone him yet, so thanks a lot there, dad. Man, that
guy was fucking beautiful..."

Corinth sighs dramatically like an infatuated teenage girl.

"You must remember, dad? I was resting my feet on him that night you came
by to give me my ..." he searches for a word and settles on "... chore."

"Didn't take too much notice, I'm afraid, son. And anyway ..."

He puts down the harness and slams his big hand unexpectedly on Corinth's
shoulder, causing the sour-faced lad to wobble.

"... the sacrifice was worth it. We have what we wanted, and we'll now be
able to bring about the demise of that interfering Surfer all the more
quickly. You've done very well, Corinth, I'm ..."

Mortimus balks at using the word 'proud' out loud, and settles for
"pleased" instead, removing his hand from the boy's leather-clad shoulder
at the same time. Corinth is frankly relieved that this embarrassing show
of paternal pride is averted.

"And there are always plenty more football players, if, er, if that's your
thing" Mortimus mutters quickly. Try though he might to take no interest in
his son's proclivities - in much the same way as he avoided being involved
in his upbringing as much as he could get away with - Mortimus has noticed
the lad's weakness for hunky airhead jock boys. Mortimus always takes note
of weaknesses in friends and enemies alike. Usually it's because he wants
to exploit them. In this case, he'd like to ensure his son's lusts don't
become his achilles' heel.

An alarm beeps and a young woman in an immaculately white lab coat
approaches. A cut to a wide shot reveals the underworld boss and his son
are indeed in the corner of a gleaming, high-tech looking laboratory
complex.

"Excuse me, Mr Cardinal sir," says the woman, "But Mr Trasseno has arrived
at his destination."

"As I knew he would," Mortimus nods. The technician proffers an electronic
tablet, which Mortimus takes and examines. On its screen he sees an aerial
shot of the dilapidated telephone booth at the corner of 1188th/542nd. The
supervillainous Eclipse stands incongruously inside it, holding the
receiver to his ear, looking like a piece of 1950s pop art.

His voice comes over a speaker: "Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? I'm warning
you, if you're jerking me around-"

Mortimus mutes the sound, shaking his head at the young man's vulgar
manner, and turns to face a sleek chrome-looking booth standing close
by. "Activate, Miss Echidna," he says, straightening his coal black lapels.

"Yes sir"

As Mortimus places the tablet on a table we see a flash of light in the
grainy footage of the phone booth, and Eclipse appearing to evaporate.

A similar, more colorful flash of sparkling light accompanied by a suitable
CHOOOM!!! sort of sound effect causes him to appear inside the booth in the
laboratory.

Eclipse emerges, blinking, from the receptacle.

"Of course," he says, "Cardinal Sin."

"I trust you had a pleasant trip, " Mortimus says, because situations like
this always seem to require this kind of dialogue.

"Having every atom in my body torn apart, broadcast through the air and
reassembled in this box? Yeah, I suppose it was more pleasant than it
sounds."

"A convenient mode of travel, don't you think?"

"A dangerous one, Cardinal Sin. I have superhuman powers, in case you
hadn't noticed. What if every atom of my body had resisted the process of
being ripped apart so you could get me here promptly?"

"No need to be melodramatic, Mr Eclipse. The teleport device has too many
built-in safeguards to be used as any kind of weapon"

"Translation: you haven't figured out how to get around the safeguards yet"

"Mm. Quite right. A very advanced civilization created this device, and we
haven't quite cracked its workings yet"

"I thought the government had rounded up and impounded every piece of
technology left behind by the Celestica Skourge?"

"All but one, as it turns out," Mortimus agrees smugly. "You're rather
priveleged, Mr Eclipse. As modes of travel go, you've just enjoyed a
somewhat exclusive one"

"Look, a little warning would be appreciated next time you -"

Eclipse stops speaking abruptly, noticing the dark, odd figure of Corinth
Cardinal for the first time. Those makeup-smudged eyes are staring at him
hugely, hungrily.

"Ah, allow me to introduce my son, Corinth."

Eclipse blinks. "Yes, of course, leader of the Corinthian gang. I've heard
of you, kid. Er, I hope you don't mind me saying, you're not exactly what I
expected"

Mortimus winces. This is usually the point at which the boy will make some
psychopathic threat, no matter how ill-judged in the present context. He
braces himself for his son blowing the whole thing before it even gets off
the ground.

When nothing is said, he turns round abruptly to face his son. He's
astonished to find Corinth is actually blushing, and then says "That's
okay, man. I get that a lot."

Waiting a second and judging the awkward moment to be over, Mortimus
presses on:

"Let's not waste too much time in social niceties. I'm sure you're
wondering why I invited you here."

Eclipse looks around, stroking his luscious mane of hair. "I'm also kind of
wondering where 'here' is."

"Ah, our present location must, alas, remain a mystery to you, I'm
afraid. This laboratory is rather secret, you see. Hence the use of the
teleport."

"We're in Africa," Corinth agrees dreamily, like he hasn't heard a word his
dad says. "Man, you've got great hair, dude"

Mortimus clears his throat loudly. "Anyway. We can send you right back to
the telephone booth in Sol Casali as soon as our business here is
concluded."

Eclipse folds his arms, leans back nonchalantly against a stool. "So what
exactly is our business here? Your message said something about an offer I
can't resist. I hope you're not going to try to get me to join a pyramid
scheme or something."

Corinth giggles a little too loudly. "Hah! A pyramid scheme. That's funny."

"Pardon my son, he ... had a vacation in Egypt quite recently. Trust me,
what I have to offer you here is very much worth your time. It barely needs
saying that you and I have a common enemy in you know who ... that accursed
Mighty Sun Surfer who has thwarted so many of your plans"

"And yours, pal," Devin reminds him.

Mortimus reddens. Combined with his customary deep tan, this gives his skin
a quite unsavoury hue. "He has... obstructed the progress of my schemes now
and then, yes," he stammers.

Devin and Corinth share an unexpected moment of amused eye contact as the
hubristic Mortimus squirms.

"But no longer!" Mortimus announces. "As you know, the Mighty Solar Surfer
gains his powers from the sun just as you gain them by the light of the
moon. In daylight, your energies wane, just as at nighttime, the Surfer's
powers diminish to the point of nonexistence"

Devin shrugs his thick, olive-skinned shoulders at this contrived plot
summary.

"It stands to reason, then, that if you were able to extend your powers
into the daylight hours, it would give you a considerable advantage over
your enemy"

"Extend your powers into the daylight hours," Corinth sings, because he
likes the sound of it.

"Son, you're beginning to sound simple," Mortimus warns cheerfully. Then,
back to Eclipse: "As you see, we have a complex and sophisticated
laboratory, here in AFRICA ..." he shoots his son a scolding look. "... and
we've been developing a device that will allow you to harness and focus
that nocturnal power permanently. Now, we didn't wish to concern you with
this project while it was still in development. For all we knew it might
have come to nothing. The work has not been without difficulties. However,
we've invited you here tonight because we believe we have finally achieved
success."

With a flourish, he lifts the harness of Nephthys from the table.

"This lunar overcompensator," he says, "will give you a key vital advantage
over the Mighty Sun Surfer. With the help of this harness, you will have
the ability to destroy that super-powered buffoon and thus remove an
irksome thorn from both our sides."

Eclipse looks the blue metallic harness up and down warily, careful not to
reach out and touch it. "Yeah. Not that I don't trust you, Cardinal Sin,
but how am I to know that thing does what you say it does? For all I know,
it might melt me into jello or something"

Mortimus gives the airy shrug of an innocent man. "You can only take me at
my word, of course, but why should I deceive you? You and I are in no way
enemies, our paths haven't so much as crossed before now. And as you see,
this device is obviously a development of the technology that the late
Professor Reimar used in the experiments that first brought your latent
powers to the fore"

"You know an awful lot about my history," says Eclipse, wrongfooted. "How
long have you known my secret identity?"

"Very little in this city evades my notice, Mr Eclipse. You'll note I
refrain from using your real name, out of respect for your chosen
identity."

Devin wonders about this, cranes in to peer at the harness device. Yes, he
recognises some of the attached meta-circuits as being the same as those on
the machinery used by Professor Reimar. They're famililar to him because he
remembers those terrifying days vividly; they began with him being
kidnapped on campus. Ended with him becoming super-powered, but killing
Professor Reimar for the ordeal he had put him through. Here, those complex
parts look sleeker, more advanced.

Mortimus has a world-class poker face. A few useless props based on the
design aesthetic of the original Reimar device, that's all they are,
slapped on top of the mystical Egyptian harness. The sadly incurious Mr
Trasseno seems taken in by this, takes hold of the harness to get a closer
look at it.

"It's lighter than it looks," he comments. "Do I need to wear it all the
time?"

"You need only put it on once for the effect we're looking for," Mortimus
assures him. "The reaction with your unusual biochemistry should take place
almost instantly. You see the blue jewel in the center? That focuses the
lunar energy. Unlike the original experiments with Reimar, this should be
painless and almost immediate."

Devin continues to weigh it up, in every sense.

He thinks. "And I beat the Mighty Sun Surfer, huh?"

"We beat him, Mr Eclipse. Working together. Your innate gifts, my
scientific discoveries." He turns to gesture at his son. "Frankly I'm not
getting any younger, and my boy here will some day soon inherit all my
business concerns. I want - I need - to eliminate the threat of that golden
goon once and for all, for his sake. And you'll have the honour of being
his assassin"

Corinth, who has a considerably less adept poker face, works hard to keep
his eyes from dancing as his dad pulls the sick old man act.

The irony here is that his dad is one of the sickest old men in the world.

Eclipse is pretty goddamn sick too, Corinth thinks fiercely.

"Do it for the kids, huh?" Eclipse sneers.

"No, no. Do it for yourself. It'll also give you a comfortable advantage
over the Surfer's little boyfriend, that Blakkout guy."

Aha. When Mortimus sees Trasseno's face at the mention of Blakkout, he
realises he's been taking the wrong tack. Of course. Blakkout is the
bigger, more ever-present threat to Eclipse, because he's the one who can
always face him on his own terms. With Blakkout out of the way he will...

He decides to say it out loud. "With Blakkout out of the way, you'll rule
the night in Sol Casali. Mr Eclipse, this is more than just a win-win
situation. You'll actually get more out of it than me."

He sees Eclipse's continued hesitation, and is secretly gratified that his
own reputation as an evil, cunning consummate bastard still has some
currency.

Mortimus takes the harness back from him. "Look, why don't you go away and
think about it? I'll have this sealed away in a vault until you make up
your mind."

He places it back on the table, careful not to overplay this
moment. Hamming it up could well prove his undoing. "It's a lot to take in,
I know. A gift horse, so to speak."

He reaches out a hand. "No hard feelings on our inconveniencing you, I
hope. I'm sure I'll see you again soon."

Eclipse looks at Cardinal's outstretched hand, looks at the harness on the
table.

"Okay, man. Give me the goddamn thing here. What the hell."

Mortimus is delighted. "Thank goodness. I knew this needn't be
difficult. Mr Eclipse, I think we are going to be firm friends!"

He lets Eclipse pick the item up himself and try to put it on. It's a very
awkward thing to do, and he looks as helpless as a guy trying to fasten a
bra on himself.

"Here, bro, I'll help ya," Corinth volunteers eagerly, reaching up to take
the dangling metal-plate straps at the back and lock them in place on the
hunk's broad, blue-clad back. As they click firmly shut, the jewel in the
centre of the harness throbs deliciously and Corinth's eyes budge
unwillingly from the expanse of muscled man-back to face his dad.

"Excellent," Mortimus Cardinal nods, drawing himself to his full height and
breadth, his old bodybuilder's chest swelling. "And now, Mr Eclipse, you
will obey my every word."

Eclipse's brown eyes turn quizzical, register realisation followed by
fury. In a flash he has charged at Cardinal and has him pressed against one
of the gleaming walls, all of a sudden twelve feet away from where they've
just been standing. Corinth blinks, runs over to where his oh-so-cunning
dad his been rammed hard against the wall.

As he lifts him off the ground, Eclipse has one hand at Cardinal's throat,
ready to crush it. "So. Whatever you thought this thing was gonna do to me,
obviously it hasn't worked," he snarls, "And now I'm going to fucking smear
you across this wall like a rotten old moth for thinking you can get the
better of Eclipse. You old bastard!"

"Hey, put him down!" Corinth yells.

Instantly, Eclipse releases the bulky shape of Cardinal, who slides to the
floor and pats himself down, regaining his poise with difficulty. Eclipse
suddenly looks appalled that he ever had the old fucker shoved up against
the wall in the first place.

"What... why...?" Eclipse mumbles as he turns to face Corinth.

"You will never again attack my dad, is that clear?" the boy chances.

Eclipse nods vehemently. "Yes. Yes, I wouldn't even think of it ... man,
that would be such a... a wrong thing to do."

Corinth laughs. A deep excited laugh right from his chest. "Oh fuck yeah,
it's worked!"

A spluttering Mortimus catches his breath, straightening up his
tie. "Worked? That's not what I call working, son. The posturing cunt just
tried to kill me!"

"Dad," Corinth says, like he's addressing a dim child, "It was me who made
the deal, me who handed over the sacrifices. Me who that smokey goddess
lady gave the harnesses to. Don't you get it? It's me who calls the
shots. I'm the one he'll obey."

Even as he says the words, Corinth looks delighted with himself.

Mortimus appears somewhat less pleased at this development. "Oh really?
Well, do tell him not to hit me back after this!"

Cardinal angrily punches Eclipse in the stomach. He hurts his knuckles, and
Eclipse barely flinches.

Mortimus clutches his painful balled fist, trying yet again to recover his
customary dignity and doing less and less of a good job of it.

"Geez, dad. He's been put under my influence; he hasn't actually lost his
powers, you know!"

Cardinal nods, fuming. "Yes, yes I see"

Corinth shakes his head. "And they call you a criminal genius. This is
worse than that time I had to show you how your MP3 player worked"

"Never mind all that, boy. Just tell this luridly-powered meathead that he
has to obey my every command too."

Corinth ponders. "Well now, I don't know about that, dad."

"What?"

Corinth smirks darkly as he runs over his options. He playfully twirls
black strands of of his swooping fringe around a skull-ringed finger.  "You
know, you always have your own agendas. I instruct this guy to start doing
what you tell him, and before I know it he's not listening to me
anymore. So... I figure, I'm the guy who had to off on that quest to get
these harnesses in the first place, I'm the one who had to watch Nathan
Lusher get hauled away by those blue Egyptian fire ladies and explode so
that goddess could take a drag on his life essence -"

"Fucking hell, again with this Nathan Lusher."

"- I should be the one who gets to keep the prize, is all I'm saying. No,
you can just settle for giving him your orders through me. Then I get to
keep him once we've got the Surfer safely chilling out on a morgue
slab. You'd probably just want to dissect Eclipse here or something, to see
how he works. Or clone him to make an army, some crap like that."

"You little ingrate. I demand that..."

Meanwhile, Eclipse is tugging at his harness like he means to escape
it. Which won't take long, given his super strength and the face that it's
not locked securely; usually they don't need to be, because the acolytes of
the moon are primed immediately with a very important command...

"Oh yeah, shit ...!" Corinth starts. "Hey, Eclipse. From now on that
harness is a part of you. You would no more remove it than you would tear
out your own heart."

Eclipse removes his hands from the metallic harness instantly and in
horror. "My god. Why was I doing that..." He gently braces his hands
against the shiny harness to pat it back into position, then fondles it
proudly like it's the finest part of him.

Mortimus nods reasonably. "Hmm. Nice one, I guess, son. A well-phrased
edict is very important. That could have been a lethal slip up" He reaches
protectively for his throat again.

"Okay, my lad, I guess you have shown a certain amount of initiative
lately. And even though it was entirely through my planning and resources
that you went on that mission to retrieve these things, perhaps I should
give you credit for figuring out how the damn thing works so quickly."

"it's kind of intuitive, dad" Corinth shrugs. Then: "You know, like your
MP3 player"

Mortimus frowns.


---------

After that, Corinth is surprised to find himself entrusted with 'the
Eclipse project' - namely, making sure the handsome supervillain does their
bidding without any kind of question whatsoever, and then goes after his
rival Blakkout with the aim of getting him into the second harness. And
then... then there'll be two super-powered puppets for Mortimus to use
against the Mighty Sun Surfer.

As long as Corinth passes along the orders, that is.

Mortimus is called away on business of some dastardly type, and tasks
Corinth with sending Eclipse on a preliminary errand.

"I've arranged for a robbery tonight at the State Bank of Sol Casli,"
Mortimus explains, "And I want you to send that Trasseno freak along to
foil it. A first step to making those do-gooding dullards think he might
have switched sides. Make sure he's there by 11pm, okay?"

"Sure dad, no problem."

------------------------


Corinth instructs Blakkout to join him at his apartment, and the dude
arrives promptly.

Corinth Cardinal's very own penthouse setup would be the envy of any grown
man, let alone a delinquent young adult. It's vast and modern, set up with
every creature comfort available to the decadent young westerner. Whatever
the latest gizmo, first one off the production line comes pretty much
straight to Corinth - and even before that, he makes do with the prototype.

That it's the residence of a young guy in his late teens is evidenced by
the sheer mess of the place. Even though he has a full staff of cleaners,
the penthouse always looks like a bombsite. Clothes and underwear are
strewn everywhere, along with DVDs and blu-rays and porn
magazines. Artworks too, things that no other kid like him could ever
possibly afford. His taste for the gothic and the garish is expressed in
the crumbling relics and statues he keeps around the place, many of which
really ought to be on display somewhere like the Louvre, and the endless
strings of coloured lights. It's a difficult adolescent's bedroom, writ
large. Best not even ask about the origins of the rows of
fluorescent-painted skulls.

The strangest thing is that the supposedly grown man we see standing in the
midst of all this is the most outlandish part of this picture.

Devin Trasseno is still wearing his skintight black and blue outfit. The
flexible metal harness around his shoulders, arms and upper chest doesn't
seem out of place - in fact it just looks like he might have had some funky
redesign of his costume. The pieces of fake meta-circuitry have been
removed and Eclipse has been persuaded that the Cardinals' earlier
deception of him doesn't matter.

"Okay man, we got a little time in hand," Corinth says, standing in front
of the wild-maned titan in what looks like a seethrough black blouse, with
skinny jeans and giant multi-buckled and riveted boots. He looks the guy up
and down, impressed. Eclipse is a foot taller than him, at least. He only
comes up to the guy's big broad chest.

On a whim, "Tell you what, dude, you really want me to have a feel of your
chest, don't ya?"

Devin blinks and his eyes widen like a lightbulb's just flashed above his
head. "Well, I hadn't thought about it before, master Corinth, but now you
mention it ... yeah, I'd really love that!"

Corinth grins, raises his slender fingers, stubby nails painted black and
silver, and reaches out to stroke the ridgey contours of Devin's pectorals,
the deep vertical cleavage groove in the centre of the bare chest that is
bisected only by that pesky harness strap.

"Mmm, oh man, that's good..." Corinth breathes as he handles the stud's
chest muscles more firmly and definitely, kneading their bulk between his
fingertips.  "But you're mistaken, dude," the horny Corinth continues,
"See, you have thought about this before..."

"I have?" Devin questions dizzily, apparently immersed in pleasure at this
fondling of his breast.

"Sure. Right from the moment you got teleported into my dad's secret lab,
and you saw me. You were thinking ... I want that hot young dude to get his
hands on me. Remember?"

"I ..." Devin's head is tipping back ecstatically as the teenager continues
to grope and grab at his pecs, to tug and squeeze his nipples. "Yeah, of
course... I was just too proud to say it before..."

Damn, this harness thing is good, Corinth thinks. That smokey goddess lady
- Neptune or something, wasn't it? - was right about it working better than
mere hypnotism. It even retrofits the subject's motivations for you,
sweeping him up in the certainty that every instruction he receives comes
from deep within himself. This is way beyond the cheap mesmerism of the
city's Caligari Cartel.

Corinth lets out a greedy growl, nuzzles his face into the cleavage of
Eclipse's sizeable pectorals, licking and sucking and scraping his teeth
over the slab-like man tits.

"Mmmmm....mmmm.." he snuffles around greedily in there, and Devin gently
places his hands on the boy's head to embrace it to his chest.

When Corinth decides to emerge from him, Devin's hands fall away neatly,
obediently.

Corinth's eyes twinkle with possibility. He looks like a wicked kid who's
just thought of a way to cause trouble, loads of really bad trouble.

"Fuck, man, you must remember - you saw me, and you thought 'I want to be
that hot young dude's plaything' You thought 'nothing in the world could be
hotter than belonging to that guy' - Yeah?"

Without hesitation, as if this dark, lusty knowledge has been contained
inside him all along and begging for release, Devin lets out a moaning sob:
"Uhhhhhhhhh fuck, dude, I want so badly for you to use me ... I have all
along... man, you're so fuckin' hot ... please dude, I surrender myself to
you ... fuckin use me"

Corinth's jaw drops at the ease of it. He feels a thrilled walloping
sensation way down in the pit of his stomach, like four extra loads of
spunk have just been sent special delivery.

"Sure, man, I think I can oblige ya ... First, kneel down. Wanna see you on
your knees. I shouldn't have to look up at you"

The supervillain sinks to his knees in front of Corinth. The gothic
gangland heir instinctively places his hands on those meaty shoulders, and
then he runs his hands through that wild man of hair. "Ohhhhhh... awwwyeah
man, your hair is fucking hot.. it's like fuckin' Kyros Christian hair..."
He tugs and yanks at it, then continues to ruffle and stroke the rich mane,
"I gotta see my cum in this hair ... I gotta see it fuckin' drippin with
cum. Holy fuck"

Devin Trasseno swivels and rotates his head, the better to let his shortass
skinny master grope his way through the lustrous black
curls. "Unnnghh... oh yeah, I can't wait for that ... let me ..."

His head cranes forward and the hunk starts kissing at Corinth's
crotch. "Please, master, let me..."

Corinth, let's remember, is a young guy not yet twenty. His eager young
cock is ready to go off at the slightest provocation, and it's already rock
hard as he tells the desperate Devin to unbutton his flies for him and
release it. As he watches the mighty guy's body on its knees, all hunched
over, that big collection of powerful muscles trained totally on pleasuring
his boner, Corinth is already leaking precum down the shaft.

And what a shaft. Corinth's cock is huge, and he knows it. It looks all the
bigger too, on a little wiry guy like him. Devin takes it into his mouth
for a few moments, and it's all the trigger he needs.

"The hair, bitch," the teenager gabbles, "Give me your hair so I can cum
all over it"

Devin removes his mouth, tips his head forward submissively. He twirls and
gyrates his wild mane beneath Corinth's throbbing boner as a huge blast of
cum splatters all over his head. "FUCK! FUCK MAN!" Corinth grunts, reaching
out to grab those shoulders again as the powerful hunk humbly welcomes
every pouring rope of his jizz onto his beautiful mass of hair.

Corinth shakes the last stringy drops out, still fiercely erect. He looks
at that hair, already blasted through with ribbons his thick teen boy cum.

"Awwwwyeah... yeah that's so good..." Eclipse moans, and there's a boner
tenting his lycra-clad crotch.

Corinth makes no move to smear the cum in. He wants to leave its pearly
whiteness visible in those great globs. "You want to suck on my cock some
more now. You want to suck out the last drops of my cum..."

Devin obeys in pleasure, clutching on to his erection as it shows starkly
through his faggoty outfit.

"Damn right," Corinth says as the super-dupe clamps down on his cock.

Yeah, Corinth's a young guy. This first uncontrollable cum-blast is just an
icebreaker, an appetiser, something to take the edge off.

The little crime prince is quick to consolidate his power over the
stud. "You fuckin' belong to me now, right? I want you know in every bone
of your body that I am your master -"

XXJSH###J:::# the tape seems to slip, blur. Flashes of pink and green. Zac
Sharkey saying the same words into the ear of surf babe Jordon Lunar,
pulverized in his grip###ccddo!>

"- and from now on, you only ever get turned on by me? You got that,
fucker? In fact, you will only be able to orgasm when being fucked by your
owner, Corinth Cardinal! Man! This is awesome!"

"Fuck, I'll say it is," Devin gasps. "This is like my wildest dreams come
true, getting to be owned by you, sir. You can treat me like a fucking dog,
I'll come running to your heel..."

"Yeah, not quite finished sucking out that jizz, though, are you boy?"
Corinth snaps. This is how quickly he's become accustomed to having the
dude as his slave. He's a little peeved that the super-slut took a break
from sucking on his cock to offer his unabashed obedience.

He holds on to the back of Devin's head, starts making thrusting
motions. Idly he facefucks the sexy titan for a while. Corinth loves to
hear the gagging.

Then he releases the bastard's head. "How's that for a big fuckin' dick,
huh, slutboy? Gotta be the hugest dick you've ever sucked on, right?"

Devin licks around his saliva-slicked, cummy creamed mouth, catching his
breath. He gives the great reddened helmet of the teen tyrant's cock some
gentle kisses. He cranes it to sniff it, inhaling deeply. "Mmmmn... it's
the only dick I've ever sucked on, master Corinth."

"Oh yeah?" Corinth asks, raising an eyebrow, He wonders whether to convince
the freaky fuck that he has an entirely different history, that's he's
actually craved and serviced cock all his life. But then the slut hunk goes
on, with a story that massages Corinth's vanity just right:

"Yeah... it's your cock that's turned me, master. How could I resist
sucking on the dick of Corinth Cardinal? It's incredible. You're like a
fuckin' god to me, man..."

If every word wasn't spoken so earnestly, so passionately, Corinth could
nearly take this as sarcasm. When he thinks of the coercion he's always had
to use with guys before, with boys his own age... Sure, that can often be
fun, but ...so many have surrender to him out of fear; the son of the
mighty crime overlord Mortimus Cardinal. No-one has loved him - well, he
can't expect that - but neither has anyone truly reciprocated his own
gorgeous, clutching lust. Coz the thing is, Nate Lusher, Chase Phaeder,
Seth Christiansen ... he really did worship those beautiful jock guys; how
strong and athletic and graceful they were. It brought him close to tears
how much they stirred him inside. The only goddamn way he had to express
that passion was to conquer them - to break them and fucking ream the shit
outta them. That's the only way he knows how to desire.

Corinth suspects no-one has ever worshipped him. No-one's stared at him
longingly and been unable to believe something so dazzling and perfect can
exist in this world. He's still young enough to wish for that, think it
might yet happen.

Now he does have someone to worship him - and not just a young guy like
himself this time, some dude plucked from his school, but this magnificent
specimen of a man in his prime. Yeah, he's kind of cheated to get this
prize, but --- it's kind of hard to fucking care right now. Nature is
taking its course through Corinth's ennervated, hormone-pumping body. There
is fucking to be done, so very much of it, before he will engage in any
more thought of why it is happening or what it means.

"Get them fucking clothes off, man" he says. "Strip off everything - except
your harness, of course."

"Sure thing" Eclipse pants. Corinth notices his muscled arms are
goosebumped with excitement as he starts tugging at his lycra
bodysuit. It's a hell of a thing to get out of, as it turns out. The outfit
leaves little to the imagination anyway, but to see the skin revealed as
Devin strips off just makes this trip all the more real. Corinth sits down
and starts unbuckling his heavy duty boots, his eyes on Devin all the
while.

Fucking hell, he thinks. Now that's a man.

Because parts of his sexy skintight suit are beneath the harness, Devin has
no choice to rip apart much of the top section, leaving the outfit
basically in tatters.

The hard part out of the way for him as he finally kicks off his
elaborately buckled footwear, Corinth peels off his skintight jeans and
removes his blouse-top. He's in no way selfconscious about the hard little
skinny body he reveals, even with this perfect specimen's mounds of muscle
flexing their way out of their bad-guy threads. Corinth's even got a little
swagger as he stands up off the couch, the huge boner up front of him all
the credentials he needs to assert himself over this mighty hunk.

When Devin Trasseno is all stripped off, there's something curiously
vulnerable about him, despite his physical power. The harness, Corinth
supposes, and the way it marks him out as owned; as property. He's erect
too, and his cock isn't huge like his young master's, which gives Corinth a
further measure of satisfaction.

"The bed over there," Corinth nods approvingly. "Want you to get on it, lay
down on your front. Spread your arms"

Devin heads over, his eyes on Corinth the whole time to make sure he's
following - and of course, Corinth is tailing him closely, focusing on the
strap lightly digging in to the skin on his slave guy's upper back. It's a
shame not to get that off too. He wonders if his dad's lab geeks might be
able to do something about that one day. Puzzles over whether ancient
Egyptian magic can be ... scientified? Or whatever the word is.

As he arrives at the bed with Eclipse laid out deliciously upon it, he
lands a hard smack on one of them bountiful buttocks.

"You feel that, Devin?" An irskome thought strikes him. "Or do your
superpowers mean you're invulnerable to ass-slapping?"

"I can focus my powers any way I like..." the prone Devin offers. "I can
make my body extra-sensitive to being touched. Especially when I'm
aroused... like now... I can feel everything way more sensually than a
normal guy"

"I like the sound of that," Corinth smiles, rolling his tongue in his
cheek, aiming another heavy slap at Devin's ass cheek. Devin's response is
proof of what he's said. He gasps falteringly and with involuntary relish
like he's sinking into a steaming hot bath.

Corinth strokes that ass more delicately, appreciatively. Then he clambers
up onto the bed, and onto Devin, sleekly like a cat.

The wicked little guy mounts the expanse of Devin Trasseno's flesh, that
body stretched out before him like a newfound land; and the harness is like
the flag he's planted in it. Course, if Corinth really had a flag it'd be
your classic skull and crossbones. He balances his cock in the small of
Devin's back, and lets his skinny legs balance neatly on top of the man's
big, smooth totally defined ones. He reaches out to massage the shoulders
and upper back, to feel it all against his fingertips and palms.

"Man, I gotta feel every inch of this bod against my hands" he whispers,
more to himself than to the supine Devin. He finds - or decides to find -
the cool metal strap that goes across his back from between his sharply
strangely sensual, a little interruption in the path traced by his fingers
that makes the heat and simultaneous soft/hardness of the body briefly
absent, and then lets them resume. As Devin shifts, his shoulder blades
give them impression almost of being hemmed in, trapped against the
flexible metal. Neatly packaged. Corinth's own special delivery. The teen
tyrant starts gently kissing and licking the fine, lustrous skin, still
feline in his movements, nibbling occasionally and enjoying the sensitive
way the subservient supervillain reacts. He does this for some time,
moistening every available inch with his own saliva, marking his territory.

He climbs up the coveted back a little to get a hand into the messy,
cum-laced black hair. he pulls it away from the handsome stud's cute,
nearly lobeless ear.

"So tell me, stud - what's, like, the biggest thing you've ever lifted up
over your head?"

Devin tries to think, but his eyes are rolling back in his head as his
deepest desires - as far as he knows - are fulfilled and his teen master
takes control of his body. He searches for a suitable answer, wanting to
impress his wiry overlord. "There was that time I picked up a twenty foot
truck in each hand ... so I could throw them at the Mighty Sun Surfer."

"Oh yeah? Sounds pretty hot," Corinth commends, rewarding him by making out
with his ear a little. It satisfies him too that he can smell the fresh,
ocean-like scent of his own spunk all about Eclipse's head. "One in each
hand, huh?"

"Yeah... I got between 'em... picked each up from the side. I balanced
their weight right between my thumb and index finger - man, I was on fire
that day..."

"You're pretty hot stuff now, bro," Corinth smiles. "So did you get him?"

"Ahh, the fucker batted them both away," Devin admits with remorse, "I'm so
sorry, master"

Corinth giggles at the apology. "It's okay, we're definitely gonna get him
yet, you know... with your help"

Devin reaches up to cup his hand around the back of Corinth's head and pull
it closer to his so that he can feel the teenager's mouth on him some
more. Fortunately he instinctively eases off on using any of his powers. "I
don't even care about beating the Surfer any more now - not for myself. I
just wanna do it to make you happy, sir"

Corinth goes in to start kissing him. Yeah, what a way to kiss a guy for
the first time, with his body all laid out under you. The teen likes the
difficulty of having to kiss his mouth side-on, because its the way you
kiss a guy you're fucking from behind and it makes him feel dominant. Well,
fuck, he really couldn't be any more dominant in this situation.

"Okay, man, flip over," Corinth says, climbing aside on hands and knees,
his aching boner pressed against his flat stomach, touching the stud on his
pierced navel. "I want you to suck on my cock some more"

"Fuck yeah" Devin drools, like he can't believe his luck.

"Yeah, that's right dude - guess what I should say is, you want to suck on
my cock really fucking badly, don't ya?"

"Hell yeah I do" the stud admits, not even taking his eyes off Corinth's
chunky fucking boner, staring into the eye of that bulbous and ridged head.

"Get some of those pillows under your head. You might have a super-powered
fucking neck - but I think you're gonna need some support once this cock of
mine starts pounding you in the face. Hell, you're gonna get so horny from
it, you'll probably lose all feeling above your shoulders. Ha! You ready,
dude? You want this cock of mine filling up your mouth?"

Devin pushes the pillows under his head, his hair spreading about
him. "Hell, I want to feel it driving into my throat" He opens wide, a
quivering wet tongue at the ready.

"Oh, you just wait five minutes" Corinth growls, shuffling over on his
knees to take his place over Devin's mighty chest.

He makes good on his promise ravenously, and with little finesse. Let loose
on this exquisitely bundled package of masculinity, Corinth is like a kid
in a candy store, ready and willing to fucking gorge himself, and with no
responsible adult around to stop him. So when he gets his cock inside
Devin's lush, willing mouth, and when that man's mouth chows down on his
junk with a leg-paralysing combination of suction, technique and genuine,
unfakeable passion, it isn't too long before Corinth is forcing his way
further and further inside, with increasing abandon. Nor is it too much
longer after that that he shuffles around to fuck Devin's mouth and throat
from the other side, having the super-stud dangle his head over the back of
a stack of pillows, and entering it with his hairy nuts slapping against
the hunk's forehead.

"Fuckyeah, you hot fuckin bastard!" Corinth delights, leaning forward and
clutching Devin Trasseno's rock hard cock with both hands for support and
leverage. "Jesus fuckin Christ, you are way better than any dude who's ever
sucked me off before.... oooooooooh man, oh fuck man! Fuck! I been getting
short-changed by all those motherfucking jock dudes I've had up til now
... fucking TAKE it, big guy ... man, I oughtta track each of em down
... 'cept of course my poor fuckin' Nate Lusher ... and have you fucking
show them what cocksucking's SUPPOSED to be like! And then... fucking teach
them another kind of lesson ... gruuuhrrrr! Uuurggggh... for thinking they
can give Corinth Cardinal less than a hundred and ten per cent cock
worship!"

So taken is Corinth with his horny reverie and the intense pleasure of
Devin's throat against his fat bell end, he fails to notice right away that
the hunk is squirming and his eyes are crossing, rolling back in his
head. Suddenly Eclipse is drenched in cold sweat, and his face is a thick,
flushed purple. Man, he's fucking choking, struggling for breath, and still
he's letting Corinth plug his throat without serious protest.

Thank you again, smoke lady, thinks Corinth, for this awesome goddamn
harness toy. Then he pulls out of Devin's mouth with the kind of loud,
sloppy POP! you might hear from a huge dick emerging from a tight, slickly
lubricated butthole, and listens to Devin's mighty, sucking intake of air.

When it's over, Corinth playfully massages Devin's heaving chest, gives him
some upside down kisses. Into his face, he says, "Shit, what were you gonna
let me do? Choke you to death?"

"If you wanted to," Devin admits, in the throes of a delirious, unreasoning
passion. "Anything to please my master ...anything..."

Corinth lets out a disbelieving laugh. "Man, I've sure got you
hooked. Can't blame you though, guy. I guess I am pretty fucking
irresistible!"

He thinks. "You know what, I bet that's the way my dad would like to see
the Mighty Sun Surfer go. Just think of that - death by cock! Yeah, and I
bet he'd let me do it too ... too bad there ain't a harness gizmo that
controls these solar-powered cunts. Ah well."

"The harness doesn't control me," Devins whispers, drool running helplessly
from his mouth and down his cheek, into his hair. "It just unlocked all my
deepest desires, made me realise what I really want, what I need, more than
anything..."

Yeah, and you just keep fucking believing that, Corinth thinks. "Cool. And
by the way, just so you know, choking the life outta you with my wicked big
dick ain't actually an option for me. Not that I have a conscience or
anything, you know, but you're way too hot of a prize for me to give you up
like that. So, you know, relax. Plus, open wide, you lucky son of a bitch,
'cos I've got a whole lot more of your favourite treat!"

And he starts all over again fucking his hot slut in the mouth. He grinds
that head deep into the pillows as he fucks vigorously and lets his hands
roughly explore all of that hot, sweat-slicked torso stinking now with
Devin's musky man smells. He lets him gag and writhe a little a few times,
loving the obedience, the villain's total surrender to the majesty of
Corinth's pounding cock.

"You're my dirty fuckin' boy, ain't ya?" he says to the mighty man about
ten years his senior as he pulls out and traces the head of his precum
oozing cock all around the hunk's handsome dark-featured face.

"You fucking bet I am" Devin moans, licking from side to side crazily and
spasmodically, like his tongue can stretch all around his own face, to lap
up the precum from his moistened cheeks. Fresh waves of the smell of
Corinth' adolescent spunk rising up from his hair.

And then with a huge, endless luxuriant splattering, a whole new load of
pearly white jizz is shooting from Corinth's cock and coating Devin's
contortedly upside down face. He sucks and licks away to get as much of the
delicious discharge into his mouth and nestled against his taste buds as he
can, and he glugs down on the tiniest droplets just to feel their slippery
warmth squirming down his throat and into his belly. At the same time, his
only acts of resistance to the uncomfortable flood of cum down the pathways
of his face, into his nostrils and his eyes, are the involuntary,
instinctive ones. Blinking and flinching, he struggles against these innate
instincts so that he can obey his far greater conviction that his master
must be pleased and that he must accept this sacred seed in every orifice
he can.

A satisified Corinth feels the last volley leave him, and snarls in
satisfaction.

"Holy fuck ... man, you fucking slut... come here"

He gets on top of Devin's torso, grabs hold of his oily, cummy hair and
kisses his warm, jizzy mouth and face. Corinth loves the taste of his own
jizz mixing with the scent and the sweat of this newly enslaved superstud.

After that, he lays back, hands behind his head, and lets the muscular
villain kneel at the side of the bed, pleasuring his cock with his
mouth. Despite shedding so much cum, Corinth's erection never wanes, and he
idly records these moments on his videophone like he wants some kind of
independent verification that they're happening, that this wild scene is
real.

Everything's made more real when you see it on a screen, isn't it. Like the
screen on which we watch this movie. Look, Corinth's pixel-smash footage is
woven into the narrative.

As he lays there, Corinth turns on some black metal from his stereo with a
remote, and wonders just how he can make the most of plundering the mighty
Eclipse's butthole for the first time. Oh sure, he's gonna give it to the
gorgeous hunk every which way he can think of from here on in. But he's
got, like, half an hour before he's ready to go again, and he knows that
next time he nuts tonight it's got to be deep inside this asshole's
asshole. What'll be, like, the perfect way to do it?

Then a wicked black lightbulb goes off above Corinth's head. He figures,
this hunk's got all sorts of freaky powers - why not make use of 'em?

Corinth makes a move for a big ancient carved chest, a relic of some
ancient civilisation that is also believed to have belonged to the Marquis
de Sade, in the far corner of his huge penthouse. Then he realises he's got
a grovelling superhunk here who'll do anything for him, and decides to send
him over to the chest. But then a further lightning bolt of inspiration
strikes, and pretty soon Eclipse is crawling on hands and knees across the
room, big powerful limbs in motion, while Corinth rides on his back. He
gives him some smacks on the ass to encourage him on his way.

When they arrive at their destination, Corinth clears some of his crap off
the top off the priceless chest and lifts the lid. Rummaging around
briefly, he soon finds an item inside that's pretty difficult to miss; one
enormous fucking dildo that a good few of his school 'friends' have got to
know intimately. Corinth's always called it the boy slayer cuz of the
pitiful mess it always reduces them to; now it's gonna step up its game to
conquer a man.

Making a thud with its sculpted, weighted balls it hits the polished floor,
the rigid phallus standing firmly upright.

Devin looks nervous at this sight, but his love for his teen master
overwhelms his doubts.

What a fucking pussy I've turned him into, Corinth thinks. And then again,
why be coy about it: "What a fucking pussy I've turned you into, huh?" he
laughs.

"I'll be your pussy forever if it pleases you, master Corinth. I can't even
explain it, my whole fuckin body and mind just crave to be your cunt. I
want to take you all inside me"

"Man, almost too easy. Nate Lusher, I think, would have taken a little more
work..."

Corinth stares off into nowhere for a little bit. Blinks and shrugs. He's
getting too sentimental.

"Okay, so before you get the honour of your master's cock, we need to
loosen you up a little, yeah? So..."

Soon, at Corinth's instructions, Devin is using his lunar-derived
superpowers to levitate inches above the titanic dildo, and gradually ease
himself down onto it. He sits in mid-air in an unaccustomed vulnerable
pose, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around his legs. All balled up and
giving the appearance of holding and protecting himself, the all-important
exposed part of him is his asshole, prone over the threatening swollen head
of the dildo.  Corinth finds it cute how nervous he looks, trying not to
show it, as he eases himself downwards. He keeps his eyes the whole time on
his teen tyrant master, like he's trying to remind himself at every moment
of this experience why he is doing it.

"That's it, boy," Corinth encourages, "Take it slowly ... get down on that
thing bit by bit" It sounds gentle and encouraging, but he adds: "I want to
watch your face the whole time, I want to see what it feels like for you
... bit by bit ... getting fucking penetrated. So go down on that thing
damn slowly... and don't be afraid to let me know how it feels"

Corinth has one hand wrapped around his boner, nearly white knuckled, but
he reaches out with the other to place it on Devin's shoulder. "And you
said you can make any part of your body super-sensitive, yeah? How's about
up your asshole? Why don't you do that for me, slut?"

The ridged dildo head is now just touching the edges of his buttocks, on
the cusp of going into him.

"The aura is only on the outside of my body, master ... like a shell of
power. But inside..."

"Inside, it's like your achilles' ass!" Corinths exclaims in
delight. "Inside you're as vulnerable as anyone, right?"

"Yesssssss...nggghhhnn..." Eclipse hisses, straining because now the dildo
is entering him. Corinth's mouth opens in a half grin, his tongue licking
against his teeth as he watches the beautiful guy let himself be entered
for the first time, just because he has given the instruction. Corinth
would like to bet that this is a first, a historical moment; no-one has
ever been fucked in this way before. No-one has sat like Eclipse is right
now, hugging his knees, sinking slowly in a ball onto an upright cock, his
fear and reluctance overrode by sheer obedience. Goddamn super-powered
idiots- always using their abilities to make grand gestures of good or
evil, instead of using them to find whole new ways to fuck.

He takes his hand away from his dick so that he can place both hands on
Devin's shoulders now, fondling them and feeling he now holds the whole of
this big hunk in his hands. It's a thrilling, powerful feeling. Corinth's
dad keeps on telling him someday he'll be an emperor of crime. Now he gets
it. Now he feels like an emperor, lording it over not just mere mortals
like stupid Nate gorgeous fucking lovely Lusher, but over unearthly,
abberant beautiful beasts like this --- thing. Yeah, he can't even think of
Devin as a man. He's a creature, a fabulous behemoth that he has tamed.

"Down you go, slaveyboy - way down onto that cock. Get you used to what it
feels like. You'll be able to take it like an expert when I get mine inside
you next."

As he moves his exploring hands over Devin's upper shoulders to glide over
his trapezius muscles, the lustily enslaved supervillain reaches with his
tongue for Corinth's thumb, the one nearest his mouth, and begs wordlessly,
just through desperate but unmistakeable gestures, to suck on it. Corinth
obliges, caressing the stud's robust jawbone - man, it's like this guy's
had the closest shave ever - as Devin sucks lovingly and contentedly on his
thumb, comforted by it like a pacifier as the dildo drives home inside
him. Corinth uses his other hand to stroke the ridges of Devin's pectorals,
tweaking at a hard nipple and using the spiked silver ring on one of his
fingers to rub and prode at it. He can feel shudders of electric feeling -
pleasure, pain, whatever - going through his obedient stud's body. Now he
kisses the hot bastard as he goes further and further down. He stoops as
the adonis sinks lower, laps it up as saliva floods Devin's mouth.

"Okay, dude" he whispers, drawing himself away with a slurp. "Now fuck
yourself."

And Corinth takes a seat and watches, stroking his cock as the naked
muscleman floats up a few inches, eases down a few inches, floats up a few
inches, eases down a few inches, over and over again. Eclipse, as it turns
out is a moaner. Corinth loves a moaner. Some of the boys he's had have
been squealers, and that was fun too - but there's little Corinth likes
better than a good drawn out moan. A word, collapsing into noise as Devin
fails to form it because he's so intensely feeling the fucking; a simple
cry of "fuck" disintegrating into "Fuuuuuuhhh...  uhhhhhuurrr..."

Corinth tells him to slam his ass harder and faster. To totally raise
himself from the dildo then ram himself back down on it. Fuck yeah, the
pussy does just what he's told. Fucking weirdo creature. Let him use those
freaky, scary powers to sodomise himself. Let all threat he carries be
erased in this erotic act of self humiliation.

"Harder, you fucking fruit! Harder and harder and harder! Fuck yourself til
you're crying!"

The bewitched motherfucker obeys, bouncing up and down rapidly on the
artificial cock until it seems like he's moving on fast forward. Can't be
really, though; you haven't touched the remote. Corinth grunts with every
thrust of the dildo up into Eclipse's guts just as Eclipse cries out with
each deep and brutal penetration.

"Fuck yeah, you fucking faggot! That's gotta be tearing up your insides
... fuck! Tell me 'thank you' for showing you your true calling! Tell me
how much you fucking love me too!"

"Aaaargh! Uhhhh! Thank you... uhhhhh! Master Corinth... eeeuuggggh... thank
you so.. muhhhhhh...hhhhuchhhh.... aaaaauuuuurhhhhh... oh my God, I worship
you... ooooooohhh... so much ...aaaargh! Ooohhh, I'm so happy to
see... oooof! hhhhh... I'm pleasing
you... guuuuurrhhhhh... master.... hhhhh.... oeeeeeurgh!"

"Awwwwwyeah... now fucking ram yourself down on it and stay there!"

Devin obeys with a squeal that turns into another long drawn-out
moan. Corinth is pleased to see that there are tears rolling down his
cheeks, and that the cheeks themselves are still slick with a mix of his
own cum and Devin's fresh sweat.

"Man, you fucking sick slut... I'm gonna fuck what's left of your brains
out all night. You say you can focus your little mutant fucking powers to
make parts of your body extra sensitive?"

"yeaahhhh...yeaaahhh....yessmaster..." the slave wheezes in tattered,
ecstatic breaths as he fills himself filled with that mighty cock pole.

"Your face then, slut. Make that handsome fuckin' face of yours extra
sensitive for me. Make it as soft and vulnerable as a flower. Make it so
the slightest breeze on it would make you shiver all over"

Devin closes his eyes to concentrate. Rich black eyelashes, Corinth hasn't
really noticed that before. He's sure he hears a faint whooshing noise as
the powers are refocused, as the unnatural field of strength slips away
from Devin Trasseno's face.

Devin nods.

Corinth raises a hand and thrashes him the fuck across his face with the
palm of his hand. The blow knocks him over, yet he responds with an
orgasmic sigh as if this is the greatest pleasure. To be conquered by this
teen boy, by master. As he falls onto one side, his asshole is exposed, the
round stumps of those fake balls sticking out of it, the entirety of the
dildo's shaft buried inside his enslaved hole.

Corinth takes hold of the end of the dildo, whips it out with a slurping
pop. He gives it to his bitch to lick and suck on. Devin knows
instinctively what to do as he is handed the dirty phallus - his very
instincts have been remolded to fit in with Corinth's.

Corinth has been wondering how to give Devin his first fucking up the
ass. Now, seeing Devin sprawled across the floor, he realises he's had his
priorities all wrong, thinking he'd make it somehow special, an
occasion. But this is no special occasion; this is the most normal, natural
thing in the world. Him, Corinth Cardinal the crime emperor, with his piece
of meat slave. So he mounts him side-on and slams his way hard boner, a
boner that feels like it's gonna last forever, into the sprawled,
fabulously muscled body of this thing that is an adonis, and a monster, and
a cheap slut all rolled into one. And he fucks him roughly in every which
way he feels like.  The real surprise is that the muscle dude's total
subservience just makes him more aggressive. The fierceness of Corinth's
lust isn't placated by the surrender of his prey, it's stimulated. He wants
to see just how much he can abuse this piece of duped trash before there's
even a flicker of resistance. This creature could kill him with ease -
instead it is his slave, and by what it truly believes is its own choice.

Corinth fucks his slave again in the face, fucks him bent over that old
chest, and over the rail at the edge of the vast balcony outside, staring
out over the twinkling lighst of the city. He grinds into him against the
hard tiled floor, and on the sofa, and in the shower. His cumming is
incidental - it happens, and he fucks on regardless. For all that he's
gonna be able to screw the shit outta this beast whenever the hell he feels
like it from now on, Corinth keeps on driving into him like this is his one
and only chance to nail the bastard.

It's six o clock in the morning before he even takes a break. By ten,
something strange is starting to happen - his hunky plaything appears to
begin deflating, his muscles decreasing in size if not definition, the
lustre of his skin fading a little. Stubble appears on his jaw and within
half an hour has become long enough to feel bristley. His gorgeous hair
appears to be getting shorter, like it's retreating back into his head.

At first Corinth wonders if this isn't some side effect of his going at the
super-stud all night long, like maybe he's fucked him so hard he's
exhausted his reserves of energy. He bathes in the satisfaction of this
idea for a couple of moments before realising the far more likely
possibility is that Devin's powers are dissipating because morning has
come. His sexy slut becomes a shabbier, less polished version of the prize
he has spent the night asserting himself over. Devin remains a totally
fuckable guy, and in fact the novelty of his transformation gives Corinth
fresh impetus to bury his cock into him yet further, but in the light of
day, he's not the unbelievable specimen Corinth prides himself on
owning. Devin senses this, apologises for the change that he is helpless to
do anything about.

Corinth's wiry body is is still clinging onto the handsome man's back when
he dozes off contentedly, his cock sleeping, happily hard, inside his
slave.

It's about three in the afternoon before he wakes up, remembering he was
supposed to be getting the sycophantic faggot to do some chore for his dad.

-------------------------------

Mortimus Cardinal is sat at his slickly polished oak desk in an office that
is plush and majestic, yet faintly sinister. Among the more sentimental
pieces of decor are framed, faded images of Mortimus in his strongman days,
a Charles Atlas-style physique rippling in classic muscleman poses, from
various contests he took part in back in the day. Corinth has never
bothered to mention the obvious homoeroticism of these things - it's kind
of a joke he keeps to himself, sniggering inside whenever his dad waxes
lyrical on "the days when men were men" ("Guess you're really into men, huh
dad?" he always feels like saying, but manages not to).

The old framed posters speak of nothing more than an old man's pride and
vanity. Some of the trophies lurking in the darker alcoves have a more
grotesque air to them, though, and each of the opulent artworks has a
macabre edge. There's nothing specific an observer could pick out, just an
underlying, accumulative sense of menace. It feels like an office where a
latter day Count Dracula might conduct his business.

Naturally, Corinth doesn't feel threatened here. He won't even do much
redecorating when the time comes for him to take over the running of this
place - that's assuming he can't do it all from his bed, using a laptop or
tablet, while some guy sucks his cock, which he he guesses he probably
can. He stands before his father refusing to take a seat, but leaning
against it, tapping his foot impatiently to some remembered rhythm.

His father is quietly furious, steaming with rage but trying to maintain a
calm and controlled exterior.

"Son, this is why I'm looking into every avenue science can offer for
prolonging my life indefinitely..."

"Ugh. Jeeesus" Corinth mutters with a roll of his eyes.

Mortimus presses on: "Your complete lack of discipline is liable to send my
entire empire crashing to its foundations within a month of my funeral; and
that's a generous estimate. By Hades, didn't that parade of stern, butch
German nannies I hired to raise you teach you anything?"

"They tought me how to get really fucking angry," Corinth nods, chuckling
at his dad's nerve in thinking those old monsters would have provided him
with some kind of moral code or work ethic. "And I remember one of them
teaching me a way of killing a guy quickly and in total silence, if that's
what you mean?"

"Boy, you had a simple task. Give that son of a bitch Eclipse the
instruction to step in and foil a bank raid that I had orchestrated. It's
not even as if you had to coerce him - we have the dickhead's balls crushed
in the palms of our hands! All you needed to do! Was give him a
straighforward instruction!"

Corinth scratches his greasy-haired head. "Yeah, yeah dad, I know. But-"

"There's no 'but' about it. And yet, come the pre-arranged hour of the
heist, this Eclipse jerk was nowhere to be seen!"

"I told you, he ruined his costume and didn't have a spare. I mean, how was
I to know? I thought these guys must have a whole rack of them"

"And how did he ruin his costume? By stripping it off in haste so that you
could get your dirty little paws on him!"

Even being ticked off, Corinth's mouth - today painted in a deep ochre
lipstick - smirks in delight. He's proud that he puts his lusts ahead of
anything else. He's got his priorities right.

"Oh come on, dad. No way was that guy not getting fuck-ing nailed" - he
stretches out those last two words "- by me. It's like you with your
fuckin' beauty queens and models -" He leaves a pregnant pause - "When you
were young. You've said yourself, we get what we want by treating Sol
Casali as one huge pussy waiting to be screwed. Alright, so maybe you
wouldn't choose Eclipse, you'd probably fuck Snake Charmer or someone-"

This is one of the city's latino superheroines, and Mortimus's eyebrow does
flinch in involuntary approval.

"-Still, you know what it's like when your dick takes hold of you. When you
fucking burn up with wanting to nail some piece of ass. You know it's all
worth nothing unless we can take what we want, when we want it. I'm living
by your fucking rules, you know, pop!"

Mortimus continues to fume for a few moments, but then slowly nods,
steepling his fingers and sitting back in his chair.

"Using my own philosophy against me, very smart of you. And exactly why
couldn't you wait just one more night? Or even until later last night?"

"I already told you," Corinth shrugs. "We take what we want, when we want
it"

Mortimus shakes his head. "Boy, it was a simple task. I was starting to
gain a little confidence in you, and now this."

"Oh, big deal. You arranged one bank heist that didn't really need to
happen. It came off, didn't it? And the Mighty Sun Surfer didn't show up,
Blakkout either for that matter, which makes them look like a real pair of
douches. And that's gotta be alright with you."

Mortimus nods greedily. Corinth knows he can always get his dad on side by
exploting his pathological hatred of the Surfer. He expands on his theme:
"And don't forget, I've got popular hack reporter Devin Trasseno at my beck
and call now. He can do some real character assassination with that one"

Mortimus's eyes twinkle, and he collects himself.

"It's the literal assassination of that golden gimp that I'm pressing for,
Corinth. And I'm afraid we're still no further forward than step one,
thanks to you and your goddamn adolescent cock that can't wait for a couple
of hours to cough up its sordid little load"

"Hey, post-adolescent if you don't mind. And I'd have said 'step one' was
when I had to give up Nathan Lusher to that smokey old bitch in Egypt"

"Fucking hell," Mortimus seethes, "What am I going to do with this
one. He's goddamn ... boy crazy!"

"'Boy crazy'? Corinth sneers. "What's that? Sounds like one of those
horrible Doris Day musicals they used to have back in your day"

Corinth makes 'your day' sound like he could be talking about the 1450s.

Their bickering argument goes on for a while longer, and Mortimus
contemplates. Ultimately he decides on a compromised course of action.

"I'll tell you what, son. I'd hoped for rather more from you, but if you
insist on behaving with the shamelesness of a hog in shit, I will make a
concession to your reckless immaturity. We shall delay step two by one
month. At the end of that period I'll contrive some new charade that will
allow Eclipse to convince Blakkout he's had a change of heart. In the
meantime, I want you to get this little infatuation-cum-power trip of yours
out of your system"

"You mean...?"

"I mean, go nuts nutting that cunt boy of yours, if that's what it'll take
for you to see your way clear to advancing our - my! - scheme. Go knock
yourself out screwing him in whatever filthy way your twisted little heart
desires. Morning, noon and night if need be. Finally you'll come to realise
the hollowness of it - there's no challenge or triumph in maniplating what
is little more than a meat fuckdoll, you'll see that. Just come back here
one month from today with that superpowered sap in tow, all done with the
most pressing of your ludicrous desires and ready to commit to our plan of
action. Remember, it'll all be worth it when I have the Mighty Sun Surfer's
head mounted over there on that wall."

Corinth works hard not to roll his eyes. This obsession with the defeat of
the Surfer is much more his father's thing than his own. Course, that's
partly because Corinth is so selfish that he won't properly consider the
Surfer an enemy until he has personally stood between Corinth and something
that he wants. Had the superhero yet inconvenienced the twisted teen in
even the most minor way, you can bet he would be as furiously eager to rub
him out as his father has always been.

Anyway, this flits only briefly through his mind. More important is this
month's deferral of the tedious chore element attached to his new pleasure
pursuit. His dad's criticisms of him, as ever, barely register. All he can
think of now is that it is fucking playtime...


--------


So Corinth zooms home in his customised sports car, eager to get back to
his new toy. When he arrives, he finds Devin carrying out the instructions
he gave him when he left. Dressed in nothing but an apron, plus his
ever-present harness, he is in the midst of painstakingly dusting and
scrubbing the huge penthouse. Corinth has a staff of cleaners, so he
doesn't need to get him to do this, but he likes the idea of Devin's total
subservience, and any way that can be expressed is cool by him. Now, only
one day after claiming him with the blue harness, he has Devin installed as
his maid. He thinks he might get him a little frilly skirt for when he's
carrying out his maidly duties. Yeah, Corinth is taken with that
idea. That's definitely going to happen.

After a welcoming kiss and a little affectionate cock and ballsucking from
the super-slut, Corinth asks if he's also called his editor at the the Sol
Reporter and handed in his resignation. Of course he has; there's no
question now of Devin not doing what his adolescent overlord wants.

Corinth is dimly aware that, to hold off his dad's whining a little, he's
just convinced him that Devin Trasseno will be useful to them, as he's a
top reporter at a major metropolitan newspaper. But that was only ever a
chunk of expedient horseshit. He'll work out later how let the old fart
know he already made him quit. Corinth was never the kind of kid who shared
his toys. This one he's keeping all to himself as much as possible.

Still, having the fawning fairy at home all the time does mean that Corinth
takes to staring impatiently at the clock a lot. Devin Trasseno's a hot
guy, sure, but Corinth knows that come night-time he attains his perfect,
ideal form. So he doesn't really want to waste energy fucking him during
the day, and then have less left at night when the dude is at his best.

This leaves Corinth time to sit around and think, at least when he's not
playing videogames or indulging in his weird hobby of making erotic and
disturbing sculptures out of plastic action figures. Corinth with time on
his hands is invariably bad news for at least some of the citizens of Sol
Casali. Left to his own devices he'll start dreaming up new ways of making
mischief, and indeed within a couple of hours, with dusk fast approaching,
ideas for an evening's entertainment have already popped into his head.

He's remembered his fantasy last night of tracking down some of his
previous boy conquests and having Devin show them what a really awesome
cocksucker can do - what really fuckin' trying hard to please his master
looks like. At the time it was just a bunch of lust-fuelled thoughts
pouring ecstatically out of his brain like mental jizz. Now he figures,
what is the point of power if not to make your every fantasy come true, if
not to to satisfy your every passing desire?

So, when night falls and Devin Trasseno undergoes his sexy ass variation on
a Jekyll and Hyde transformation, Corinth wastes no time in despatching him
on a mission - first to head back to his apartment and slip into one of his
backup costumes (again, Corinth's claim to his dad that Eclipse didn't have
any spares was a bluff), and then to get his cute spandex-clad buttpussy
over to the Dallesandro College campus.

Corinth gives him a shopping list of guys to return with. He has a few
extra-curricular lessons to teach them.