Chapter 3: Surrender

By IvorySilk - ivorysilk888@gmail.com
published February 19, 2021
3502 words
Summary

Every hero has an exploitable weakness. Even the strongest of them all…

TW: Heavily referenced murder and gaslighting.

Thank you to @time.to.occur for editing!


Lucas stayed. He knew fairly well that he could technically leave whenever he wanted, but Lucas stayed. It didn’t make a difference now anyways, not after what Voclain managed to compel him to do that night during that moment of ecstacy. Voclain had won and Lucas would be stuck cradling the remnants of his shattered psyche no matter where he was. So he might as well stay where he could get fucked and not have to own up to anything.

So Lucas stayed and let himself get coaxed by Voclain into more and more bouts of debauchery, let himself get fucked on every surface in Voclain’s fancy headquarters, just so he didn’t have to think anymore. With swallow after swallow of his “training medicine” sliding down his throat, Lucas found himself questioning his decision less and less.

Still, every now and then, he would see the news, or look outside, and the nagging guilt would spring up on him, leaving his insides twisting uncomfortably. He was at a crossroads, he knew it, but by god he no longer knew which direction to take. Everything that used to be so clear cut and obvious to him now eluded him like wispy mist dissolving in the sunlight.

In the end, it was Voclain who made the decision for him, as he always did, these days.

“You need to stop seeing yourself as a hero,” he told him one evening as Lucas watched the news while slumped against Voclain’s expensive leather couch. “It’s holding you back, that instinct to always want to jump up and ‘help’ people instead of taking what you want.”

Lucas shifted uncomfortably and kept his eyes on the television. “Yes Daddy.”

On the screen, footage of the Hero Alliance fighting some giant sea monster played as a commentator frantically delivered the story to the camera.

“And while you might be able to do ten times the work they do in a tenth of the time, they’ll never take you back,” Voclain added as he coolly poured himself a scotch. “Not after what you’ve done, what you’ve been doing. They’ll never understand.”

Lucas drew in on himself, hugging his knees which propped up his jaw. “Yes, Daddy.”

That automatic response was easier than having to truly acknowledge what Voclain was saying. He wasn’t ready to confront those demons yet.

The couch dipped slightly as Voclain slid in next to him. It was clear he was again not going to be allowed to be alone with his thoughts. On screen, the fight had ended and the members of his team were giving statements to the reporter. Lucas curled in on himself even more tightly when his own name came up.

“We still don’t know where Power disappeared to,” Dash told the reporter, “But we’re doing everything we can to find him. We’ll –” The screen went blank as Voclain shut off the broadcast, cutting off whatever Dash was going to say next. Lucas sighed, unsurprised.

“Do you want to go back?” Voclain hummed.

Lucas put his forehead against his knees and shook his head. “No, Daddy.”

“Are you sure? You don’t miss your little ’super’ friends?”

Lucas bit his lip.

“It’s quite alright if you do. We all have weaknesses, my boy. Admitting them just makes it easier for us to isolate the problems and fix them.” Lucas’ eyes remained trained on the nothing in front of him as Voclain took another long draw from his glass.

“I…I don’t know…”

Voclain gently smoothed a hand through Lucas’ hair. “That’s quite alright. Don’t trouble yourself over it too much.”

Lucas nodded silently and leaned into the touch. It was hard to tell now whether these instincts were from his conditioning under Voclain or not, but it made him feel better. He didn’t turn the TV back on again.


“I don’t understand.” Lucas blinked at the items laid out neatly on the bed in front of him, recognition and uncertainty flittering between his eyes.

“It’s your costume my boy.” Voclain told him as if he hadn’t realized, an arm curling around his back to hold him as if in comfort. “You seemed a little cooped up in here. I think it’s time we let you back out for a bit, get some fresh air, start a new training regime.”

Lucas could hardly hide his excitement when he turned back to look at Voclain. The words were incongruous to what he knew of the man - Voclain hasn’t completely altered Lucas’ perception of him yet - but he couldn’t stifle the flicker of hope brimming inside his chest. “Really?”

“Of course, my boy. I only ever want what is best for you.” Voclain’s expression was tender.

The old Lucas, before his capture, might’ve noticed how out of place it looked, how eerily shallow the mask was compared to the manipulative and conniving mind simmering beneath the surface, but now, the new Lucas, the one who experienced Voclain not just as his foe but as his strangely kind caregiver, just accepted it. “Go on.” Lucas warmed when he felt a supportive kiss against his temple. ”It’s time you got into the field again. I even got you a mission.”

He stripped and slid on the costume without further prompting. He had been naked so many times in front of Voclain now that he felt no shame in letting his former enemy see him. In fact, thanks to his training, Lucas had learned to enjoy the older man’s leering gaze. Being able to show off the sexy curves of his muscles for his Daddy was an exciting privilege.

Once dressed, Voclain hummed at him approvingly, nodding as he raked his eyes up and down Lucas’ body. “Ah yes, there’s that annoying jacket and mask I’ve been dealing with all these years.” He reached out and gripped Lucas by the chin and tilted his face up as his thumb rubbed possessive circles into Lucas’ cheek. “But now I have you,” there was a sharp glint of something in his eyes and his lips then curled into an almost sneer, “And I have you say, you are much better as a slut writhing under me and screaming my name.”

Lucas flushed hard at the reminder and tried to pull his head away. He was already starting to get hard in his tights. If Voclain kept this up, this whole effort of putting him back in his costume would be wasted. Unless Voclain just wanted to fuck him in his old outfit? Lucas wouldn’t put it past him. “Daddy, please –” The sneer retracted into a knowing smirk as Voclain let him go.

“Of course. My apologies, son.” Voclain didn’t look the least bit sorry. “We have important business to attend to. Now…” He fished another vial out of his pocket and held it out in front of Lucas. This one’s contents were violet. Lucas frowned at it with puzzlement, but obediently tilted his head back and opened his mouth all the same, letting Voclain pour its contents down his throat as if he was a baby chick receiving its meal. This new substance tasted slightly bitter compared to his usual medication, and it went down smoothly without the heated tingle that the other did.

“Considering your condition,” Voclain explained, “It’s important we make sure you’re on your leash before you head out. But of course, it’d be cruel of me to also leave you wanting and needy out there by yourself, so this one is a concentrated dose of just the training factor, no aphrodisiac.”

“Oh.”

There was something about that statement that made Lucas’ lurch indignantly, but before he could fully grasp the reason, the protesting thought faded again like so many others. Oh well, it probably didn’t matter, he supposed. He hummed softly as everything went soft and hazy again and nuzzled against Voclain’s palm as it came to cup his cheek.

“The effects will take hold faster without the aphrodisiac component,” Voclain nodded as he studied Lucas with a detached sense of indifference. “How are you feeling my boy?” His voice rang through Lucas’ head like soothing water, buoying Lucas up and pushing him along a pleasant current that he wanted to stay in forever and forever.

“Good,” Lucas sighed contentedly. “Safe. Your voice sounds very nice, Daddy.”

“Good,” Voclain smirked. “Then you are ready for your mission.” He grabbed a remote from a nearby counter and switched on a display screen showing the security feed of one of their warehouses. On it Lucas could see what looked to be a man in a long coat nosing around with a gun and flashlight out. Around the man’s neck hung what looked to be a police badge. “This is Detective Rayner,” Voclain explained. “He’s currently in warehouse sixty-two by the pier. I want you to go there and kill him.”

Lucas blinked at the order for a second. A small part of him had immediately recoiled at the order, begging for it not to be true, but his head was still foggy, as if floating on clouds, and he couldn’t find it in himself to argue. He was a good boy who did what Daddy asked after all.

“Kill him?”

“Yes, my boy,” Voclain repeated as he rubbed soothing circles into Lucas’ back. “It’s a small thing for someone of your abilities. You’ll do just fine.” He pushed open a door that led them out onto the balcony, then gestured for Lucas to walk through it “Go on.”

That tiny part of Lucas was screaming again, this time with a desperation so shrill it almost petrified him and rooted him to the spot. But it was a small voice, and got smaller with each step that he took through the door. When Lucas finally lifted into the air, his dark jacket and bright costume whipping in the wind, it was almost quiet enough for him to no longer be able to hear.

Everything happened quickly after that. Whether it was because he was eager to get it over with, trying to be efficient, or just trying to no think about it all, he wasn’t sure. But he managed to get it all done and back within a minute, his only moment of pause in those few seconds before he closed his fingers around Rayner’s neck. The screaming returned to its loudest in that moment, but even then, even then, he couldn’t be stopped. And then it was over and no amount of internal wailing could change that. It was over.

There was no blood. There didn’t need to be. He was too strong, too efficient, for there to even have been a fight. Rayner was dead before he even realized that Power was there, and no sooner had his body hit the floor was Lucas flying back towards Voclain’s penthouse. The drug finally seemed to wear off then, its effects exhausted by the dramatic circumstances, and as Lucas looked at his hands from where he drifted back against the wind, all he felt was cold. The screams inside his head were silent, but they seemed to have turned into deep gashes in his soul. Lucas was fairly certain he’d never be able to heal from that.

He dropped to his knees like a limp sack as soon as he made his way back inside the penthouse, his expression blank. He had known, in the abstract, what his Daddy had asked him, but nothing made any sense anymore. All he knew was pain. He didn’t even register the familiar heel clicks making their way towards him until he felt the soft touch of Voclain’s gloved hand against his cheek.

“You did well, my boy.” Lucas remained limp as the hand petted him, his eyes unseeing. “I watched you. You were exactly as swift and deadly as I could have hoped.” Lucas continued to say nothing. “Talk to me, my boy.”

Then Voclain’s face came into view and Lucas realized he had knelt down in front of him. Tears ran down the hero’s cheeks as he stared back at the villain, all the confusion and pain finally boiling to the surface. Even then, he couldn’t find it in himself to disobey his Daddy.

“It hurts,” Lucas whimpered as he allowed himself to be pulled into Voclain’s embrace. His whimpers then bubbled into full on sobs as he clung to the older man’s way too expensive suit. “It hurts, Daddy. Please make it stop.”

“Of course, my boy. Of course.” Lucas shook violently as strong arms wrapped around him, their possessive hold warm against the chilly night air. “Shhhhhhh. There, there, now, Daddy will take care of you. Shhhh.” He was then released and a hand gently tilted his chin up so he was facing Voclain. The smooth thumb of the other then gently wiped away the tears under his eyes. “You were brave, my boy. Very brave. Daddy’s so so proud of you.”

“I’m a monster.” Lucas choked.

“No. You’re perfect, Lucas. Perfect. Nothing less.”

The words didn’t really align with how Lucas was feeling, but he accepted them anyways. They brought back the fluttering bliss of the drug and made the pain a little less intense.

“I don’t feel perfect…”

Voclain sighed in the chiding tone of his, and another vial was then pressed to his lips, this time, it was the same colour as it always was. “Take your medicine.” Volcain told him. “It will help you feel better.” Lucas nodded and opened his mouth, all too willing to accept any remedy for the turmoil happening inside of him. “That’s my good boy.”

Voclain rose up again to set aside the empty vial, but Lucas clung to him. “Shhhh, it’s all right now, my boy.”

Lucas nuzzled Voclain’s leg as his former enemy petted his hair, his fingers gripping to the fancy slacks so tightly, taring noises could be heard. He couldn’t let go, this medicine didn’t act fast enough, he needed Voclain there right now, even if he couldn’t put the reasoning into words.

There was a sigh above him followed by the sounds of a zipper being pulled. “Here.” Lucas licked his lips when he felt the familiar brush of Voclain’s cock against his cheek, and he opened wide as Voclain gripped his hair and guided the shaft into mouth. “Try thinking a little less and taking care of yourself more.”

Of course. It was the perfect solution. Lucas never needed to think about anything except Daddy’s enjoyment when he was busy worshipping his cock. He dove in and sucked down hard at the invitation, welcoming the distraction and the learned pleasure of having his mouth and throat stuffed. Voclain always knew exactly what he needed.

It wasn’t all that long ago that Lucas would have been revolted by the idea of performing such an act. He could still remember that version of himself with distinct clarity. But more and more, that Lucas felt like a different person, and browsing through his own memories became like temporarily inhabiting the perspective of some story book character, looking through a screen at someone else who had the same face. The current Lucas knew he loved sucking cock as obviously as he knew he had limbs. It was honestly crazy how much he had changed in the last couple of weeks.

Lucas knew it was Voclain who was doing this to him, that he was being trained to become like this while growing more and more accepting of these changes, but it didn’t change how real everything felt, so he decided it probably didn’t make a difference. In fact, tonight just emphasized how he’s been wanting this progression to continue. Maybe at the end of it all, every other thing he did wouldn’t get him all so twisted up inside.

“That’s my boy. That’s my good boy,” Voclain hummed approvingly as Lucas continued to slurp loudly on his cock. “See, it’s not so bad. You do as Daddy asks, and Daddy will always take care of you. No need for those silly friends and those silly heroics.”

Lucas moaned as Voclain gripped his head and gently began thrusting into his mouth. The heat of arousal was coming back and it was wonderful, and the pleasant taste of salt and musk in his mouth rubbing against his tongue made all his problems feel far, far away. He swallowed obediently as Voclain came with a grunt, then attentively cleaned off the older man’s cock with his hungry mouth.

“Feeling better now?” Lucas looked up at Voclain with eyes glazed over with lust and nodded. “Good. Now let’s get you back to bed.”

Lucas was pushed onto the bed where Voclain positioned him so his head was against the sheets with his ass up in there air. They had made no attempt to remove his costume. A bottle of lube was tossed at him. “I know you still need more, so get yourself ready for me. Show Daddy how much you want it.” Lucas shivered at the words and nodded. Then, he peeled back the tight polymer material of his pants and began slicking up his fingers, pushing his legs apart further to present his ass to Voclain.

His domino mask still in place, Lucas locked eyes with Voclain as he pressed his first finger inside, a shameless moan fluttering out as he did so. He loved how slutty Voclain had made him. The bed dipped behind him as Voclain leaned one knee down.

“Do you submit to me, son? Are you mine, Lucas?” Voclain’s voice was low, and its sultry tones made Lucas’ cock ache.

“Yes Daddy.” A second finger slid in scissoring with the first as he arched his back for Voclain.

“And what about Power? Is he mine to do command as I wish?” It was a strange question to suddenly be asked, but Lucas supposed it was fair. Daddy just wanted him to be a good boy all around.

“Mhmm, yes. Yes, Daddy. Command me. Command all of me as you wish.”

“No more pretending to be a hero? No more wanting to try to fly off back to those silly friends of yours? Those silly, pompous, and self righteous friends who threw you away the moment they deemed you dangerous?”

Lucas felt a sudden flash of anger surge through him at that. Voclain was right. They had abandoned him. Left him here for weeks and weeks. If it wasn’t for Daddy… No. No more pretending…no more silly heroics… He wasn’t a hero, not anymore. He was just Daddy’s boy now. And he was going to be a good boy who did as he was told for the Daddy who took care of him. He pressed a third finger inside.

“No, Daddy. No more pretending.”

Voclain’s smile was triumphant as he stepped in to squeeze at Lucas’ asscheeks. The former hero panted softly into the sheets. “Hold yourself open for me,” Volcain instructed as he moved Lucas’ hand away from his hole. “Present yourself to me as a I fuck you. I want you to feel yourself submitting to me, knowing you held yourself open for me to claim you.” The words drew another wanton moan from Lucas and he eagerly pulled his cheeks apart for Voclain. His Daddy then slicked up his once-again hard cock and aimed it at Lucas’ eager entrance.

“Now you understand Power.” Voclain told him as he thrust inside him in one swift stroke. “You’re not a hero.” Lucas moaned in agreement as he began to pump in and out. “You’re a weapon, as power ought to be.” The thrust striking Lucas’ prostate picked up in speed as Voclain delivered him more and more truth, Lucas helpless to do anything except accept. Accept Voclain’s words. Accept Voclain’s cock as it fucked him into delirium. “You are my weapon, Lucas. Mine. And I promise you, I will use you to the fullest extent of all you’re capable of.”

“Ah! Yes!” Lucas’s eyes were squeezed shut as Voclain pounded him into the mattress, focusing on the waves of pleasure he was receiving as he let Voclain’s words sink in once more. “Yes,” he breathed, his cheeks flushed and sweat matting down his dark hair. “Not a hero. Hah - your boy. Your weapon, Daddy. Yours…” Then he came onto the expensive sheets and let darkness consume him.

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