Chapter 4 (Final): Rebirth

By IvorySilk -
published February 21, 2021
3975 words

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

Thanks to for editing!

“You sure this isn’t something you can’t talk to me about through the intercom?” Lucas asked teasingly to the camera as he continued through his set of push-ups. Beads of heavy sweat splashed violently against the floor beneath his bare torso as the gravity room modulator continued to hum in the background.

Voclain had him kill many more times since that night. After the sixth time, the act had become routine and Lucas didn’t feel it anymore. By the tenth time he began enjoying it, began revelling in the destruction he was able to cause, the satisfying crunch of bone underneath his fingers. It didn’t take much to convince him to fully take part in Voclain’s schemes after that. Now Lucas was training in Voclain’s gravity room, running field operations with Voclain’s men, and spending every night in Voclain’s bed with no complaint. That small part of his mind that had been screaming before was quieted to all but a whisper now. It wouldn’t be long until it was silenced forever.

“As much as I do love admiring that pert ass of yours in action…” Voclain’s voice sounded as amused with him as it ever did, “…I’m afraid that this is a matter that will require you to be up here in person.”

Lucas sighed and pushed himself up off the ground with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll be up there in ten.” He shut off the gravity modulator and threw a towel over his shoulder, all while making sure the backside of his compression shorts were in full view of the camera. “Twenty if you need me to take a shower first.”

“This is official business Lucas. But maybe we’ll revisit that offer later.”

Lucas smirked as he took a swing of his water. “Yes, Sir.”

Sir and Master were the official terms he was supposed to call Voclain when they were in public. “You may be my boy, but to everyone else, you need to be my terrifying weapon. And we can’t have that be undermined by you calling for Daddy,” Voclain had explained to him. The thought had made him blush at the time, but he quickly got over it after Voclain fucked him against the wide window of their shared bedroom.

Lucas straightened his collar as he stepped out the elevator. As part of Voclain’s official ensemble, he was expected to be dressed as such so he learned to give up the old ratty jeans and hoodies. It was really a small sacrifice for being able to strut around in his new perfectly tailored slacks and blazers.

“Aloha, Sir,” he greeted a tad cheekily as he stepped into Voclain’s office. It was a large, opulent sort of space, as one would expect from a billionaire mastermind, but its grandeur had long worn off for Lucas, even before he’d come to stay with Voclain at this particular headquarters. Smashing through a guy’s window a bajillion times will do that to you.

Voclain looked up from his work with a quirked eyebrow. “Hn. While I do appreciate your recent improvement in mood, Lucas, I will remind you again that this is a formal setting and you are expected to show me an appropriate level of respect as such.” His voice didn’t carry the same amount of weight that it usually did though, and not just because Lucas wasn’t currently undergoing any “training”. Because despite his words, Voclain was amused, a quality in the older man Lucas had learned to recognize and appreciate.

Nonetheless, the former hero bowed to the mastermind in acknowledgement, his learned subservience to the older man on clear display. “Sorry Master. I’ll keep a better eye on that.”

“See to it that you do.”

There was then a clink on the desk, a sharp sound of glass, one that Lucas recognized instantly. He marched forwards without further prompting and picked up the vial, unstoppered it, then emptied its contents down his throat without Voclain even having to look up from his computer screen. His Daddy had made sure he learned to take his own medicine, and Lucas now understood the importance of him being cured of his frivolous old desires.

Voclain waited until Lucas had tossed out the empty vial before addressing him again, this time with just the curl of his finger as he rose from his desk. Lucas followed without a word.

For all of Voclain’s earlier claims about this being ‘official’ business, they ended up back in their shared bedroom. It was then that Lucas spotted a new, unfamiliar addition hanging next to the large vertical dressing mirror. “Is that –”

“Yes, it’s for you, my boy.” It was a matte, deep black suit, with matching boots sitting neatly beneath it. The material looked thin but incredibly dense, with sharp bright blue lines cutting neat geometric patterns over it’s surfaces. Just above the heart area, was a small, similarly blue criss-cross of shapes that Lucas knew to be Voclain’s company’s logo. He felt his heart pick up speed in his chest. “It’s time to make your role here official.” Voclain explained as he lifted the suit off the rack and handed it to Lucas.

Lucas fingered the costume and smirked. “Somehow, I expected to be a lot more naked in something ‘official’.”

Voclain snorted in answer. “Don’t tempt me, boy. I may just send you out there in your birthday suit.” He then possessively traced the backs of his fingers over the uhi patterned across Lucas’ shoulder blades. “But I do prefer you unblemished and pretty like this. And I have never been fond of sharing.”

“For your eyes alone then,” Lucas whispered back, deft fingers drawing the costume off its hanger as he leaned in to kiss his Master once more. He may be a slut now, but that didn’t mean just anyone could fuck his needy ass. And, as taught, he preferred it that way.

Pulling away from the kiss, Lucas hooked a thumb into the wristband of his gym shorts and started dragging them off in preparation of sliding into the clearly very skin tight costume, acutely aware of Voclain’s eyes following his movements at every moment. Were this the more usual situation, Lucas wouldn’t have been slipping anything back on, but he was happy to do what Voclain wanted regardless. Maybe after they evaluated the fit, Voclain would be willing to fuck him in the new gear. That would be hot.

True to his word, Voclain’s new suit for him made no plays at being anything but tactical. It was stylish for sure, and so tight that virtually every sinew of every muscle of Lucas’ body was on display underneath the minimalist accents, but the former superhero knew the material was no ordinary fabric or polymer. It insulated and breathed like nothing he had ever worn before, and Lucas was willing to bet, by its surprising tear resistance, even under his strength, that it could probably block a bullet if he needed it to (not that he did). The evidence of all the thought Voclain had put into it made his chest flutter in ways he couldn’t put words to.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he smiled back with genuine gratitude.

“Give us a twirl,” Voclain gestured back. Lucas giggled and spun around obediently, feeling pleased when he heard a satisfied hum. He arched into the fingers that traced over the fine material against his skin. “Beautiful as always.” Voclain said. “My beautiful boy.” His Daddy continued feeling him up for a moment before he pulled back to look at something on his phone. Then the mastermind’s lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“I think we put you into your new look just in time. I have another job for you, my boy.” Not two seconds after his words left his mouth, there came a loud rumble from the lobby and when Voclain showed him the screen on his phone, Lucas could clearly see his former team shouting up at the cameras as they piled in through a hole blown in the wall.

Vocalin touched Lucas’ cheek. “Now, I know this may be difficult for you…” The former hero immediately shook his head.

“They’re not my team anymore.” Just like Voclain had said. They had abandoned him. Cast him off for being too dangerous at the first mistake he made. Daddy was the only one who mattered now.

Warmth filled him as Voclain’s smile turned possessive. “Then go show them who you belong to now.”

“Yes Daddy.”

None of his former team had time to react before they were thrown out when Lucas arrived. They were bewildered for a moment before shock and confusion overtook their faces.

“Power?! Power, what are you doing?!” Dash shouted at him when he got back to his feet. His former best friend had a super fast healing factor, so it didn’t surprise Lucas that he recovered first. Lucas didn’t answer, choosing instead to just ball his hand into fists. They crackled dangerously with static and light as the speedster tried to approach him.

“Wait, Dash! Something’s wrong!” Cosmera exclaimed, holding her friend back as they all gawked at his new appearance. After a moment Cosmera held up a placating hand and said, “Hey Power, it’s us. Your friends. We’re here to rescue you. Don’t you – don’t you remember us?”

Lucas snorted out a cold laugh. “Of course I remember you. Remember how you threw me away cause I was too dangerous for you to control. If you’re here to rescue me, it’s too little too late. And – ” He threw his hands up and fired a powerful energy blast right at them. “– I never needed rescuing in the first place.” A small, tiny part of him wondered if this was what he should be doing to his former friends even as the blast went off, but his medicine did its job, and that thought was quickly wiped from his mind.

There was really no competition after that. Lucas was the strongest after all, the one hero who could single handedly match the strength of the entire Hero Alliance. The only thing that slowed him down was the distracting shouted pleas to ‘remember who he was’ and ‘to fight it’ because ‘they knew he was still in there’. They didn’t know shit.

Before long, every one of his former team was lying on the ground unconscious or too beaten to get back up. The only one left was his former best friend Dash, who thanks to his regenerative abilities, kept getting back up despite Lucas repeatedly knocking him back down. It was getting annoying and Lucas was seriously considering putting him down for good.

“Lucas… Please…” Dash, or rather Johnny, choked out as Lucas pinned him to the wall by his throat. “You’re not going to be able to come back from this. Fight it. Fight – ah!” The sounds of bones starting to crack resonated through the hall. The rest of Lucas’ former team could only look on in horror.

“You can let him down now.” A familiar voice rang out from the lobby elevator, and it was only then that Lucas released his grip. Instead of being remotely grateful though, Dash’s eyes bulged in fury when he caught sight of Voclain.

“You asshole!” He snarled, immediately trying to get around Lucas to lunge at his Master. Lucas of course, didn’t let it happen and Dash was summarily pinned back up against the wall.

“They really never learn, do they,” Voclain tisked as he steadily made his way up to them. There was a small jingling noise and Lucas caught a pair of shackles out of the air with his free hand while his eyes remained trained on Dash. Only after he caught them did Lucas glance at bindings before quickly trussing up his former teammate, who was then unceremoniously dropped on the ground.

“Voclain, you bastard!” Dash shouted without relenting. “You’re going to pay!” His Master just raised one amused eyebrow at the hero and waved off an attempt by Lucas to punch Dash into silence.

“Oh? And what is it that you think I’ve done to him?” He strolled up ever closer and Lucas instinctively stepped aside to let him have a clear view of their new captive.

“You’ve clearly brainwashed him, you asshole!” Dash gritted through his teeth as he fought against his restraints. It was futile though. Those bindings were power dampeners.

Lucas clenched his fists. He did not appreciate the berating of his Master like this, but Voclain calmed him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Brainwashed him? Is that what you think this is?” The hand on his shoulder then pointedly trailed down to Lucas’ waist, pulling him in possessively. Lucas went happily and smirked as he watched Dash’s eyes widen in fury and revulsion. Lucas didn’t care. He wanted his old team to know what sort of relationship he now had with his Master. Wanted them to finally know just how much he belonged to Voclain.

“You perverted bastard, you’re not going to get away with this!” Cosmera screamed from where she was trying to get back up. Everything in the lobby suddenly twisted in on itself, like reality itself was compressing into a point, but Lucas fought through it with ease, and with one more energy blast, everything snapped back to normal. He then immediately moved to help get his Master back to his feet. Voclain didn’t have the benefit of Power’s invulnerability.

“It’s all right,” Voclain reassured him soothingly as he straightened his suit. “She’s out of energy, aren’t you, Cosmera?” It was true. That must’ve been the last of her strength, and with a cough of blood she collapsed back to ground once more.

“Should I finish them off?” Lucas asked then, worried for his Master’s safety and wanting to be good for him. He wasn’t the least bit concerned about his ability to carry out such a task anymore.

But Voclain just shook his head. “No. That’ll be enough. Our men are already making their way down to clean up this mess. Plus,” he smirked. “They will be worth a lot more to us alive.” There was a triumphant grin on his face when he turned to Lucas, but the former hero didn’t question it as his Daddy pulled him in for a kiss. To him, it was simply perfect, kissing Voclain out in the open at last and letting himself be put on display in front of his former team. He was a hard won trophy, the perfect prize, and Lucas felt like he was worth all the world being showcased like this.

3 months later

[You can see down the cliff a few miles behind me, the remnants of the American forces taking a final stand against the tyrannical takeover initiated by the Voclain Corporation. Because of the rapid disassembly and expulsion of America’s nuclear arsenal over the last couple months, the public is skeptical about the success of this offence. Nonetheless, a statement provided by General Stratford earlier today urges everyone not give up hope. “The world will go on even without its heroes.”]

The reporter is cut off as loud artillery fire suddenly starts ringing out in the background, and in seconds the sky behind the news crew fills with smoke. When it clears a bit, the camera attempts to zoom in and captures the silhouette of a figure floating unmoved amidst the artillery fire. Then a twinkle of light emanates from the figure and an enormous blast of energy radiates out with such luminosity that the entire screen turns white for a few seconds. When it dissipates, all that is left of the army gathered in the distance is a city sized crater in the ground. The newscaster lets out a shaky breath before attempting to address the audience again.

[We are sorry, everyone. We’re sorry to be the ones to bring you news of this tragedy, but please do not lose hope. Please –]

Suddenly, the former hero, Power himself, stands before the camera, while the newscaster, apparently struck by some unseen but deadly force, drops out of frame. There are the beginnings of screams as the camera crew attempts to flee, but before a full second even passes, the entire broadcast goes dark.

Leaning leisurely against the balcony railing of a luxurious penthouse suit, Voclain calmly takes another sip of wine. “You can turn off the show now, Izzy,” he tells the television set. The broadcast ends. Voclain then unhurriedly strides to the balcony and takes a seat in a lounge chair.

Soon, a black suited figure lands beside him from out of the sky and immediately drops to one knee. “The insurgents have been terminated, Master,” he says. Voclain smiles and swings his legs off the side so that his whole body is now facing the former hero named Power. Lucas still smells of gunpowder and smoke.

“We’re alone now my boy,” Voclain says as he reaches out and runs his fingers through his boy’s dark locks. Lucas sighs and leans into his touch as Voclain caresses his cheek. “You may call me Daddy.”

“Daddy,” Lucas immediately echoes, and he lifts his gaze to actually look at Voclain, his expression like that of a hopeful child’s, even behind his mask and proud frame. “Daddy, did I do good?”

“You did wonderfully.” Voclain replies serenely. “In fact…I have a present for you.” He sets down his wine and reaches for a small wooden box set out on the table next to his chair. He holds it out to Lucas. “Go on, open it.”

With an eager look of curiosity, Lucas opens the latch and peers inside. It holds a familiar vial. Just like the ones he got his medicine from. Except it’s empty. Lucas blinks at it for a few seconds.

“I don’t understand…”

Voclain chuckles. “No? I thought it’d be obvious.” When Lucas still looked dubious, he explains. “That’s your last vial. It means your training is over my dear boy. You’re officially cured.”

Lucas’s expression was nothing short of ecstatic. There’s a clatter as the box is discarded, then Lucas is on him, arms wrapped around his neck, legs straddling his thighs, and his boy’s body arched into a hungry kiss of Voclain’s lips. Voclain allows it, settling his own hands on the former hero’s upper and lower back as he dives into the younger’s mouth and takes control of the kiss like he always does. Lucas moans prettily against him and ruts against his abdomen.

“Thank you, Daddy.” He says breathlessly when they pull apart, his lips slick and swollen again from spit and abuse. Voclain chuckles and peels off the domino mask covering his onyx black eyes, then trails another hand down to Lucas’ ass and squeezes the pillowy flesh.

“Of course. I told you you would be mine, my boy.” Lucas moans at that and clings to him tighter, sighing contentedly against his neck.

“Yes, I’m yours,” he breaths into Voclain’s neck, then whines. “Daddy, may I?”

Voclain smirks and fluffs his hair. “Of course. I always reward good behaviour.” He reaches down and helps Lucas peel the bottom half of his deliciously skin tight suit over his ass just enough to free his cock and reveal the end of the smooth black plug sitting over his puckered hole.

As Voclain toys with the end of the plug, Lucas leans back and bares his chest where he unzips two hidden openings and starts playing with his own hyper-sensitive nipples. They are firm and erect, and Lucas, no longer caring an iota about his own dignity, moans loudly when Volclain leans down and gives them each a playful nip.

“Daddy, please…” He fully accepts his sluttiness now, and is no longer shy about begging for Voclain’s touch. He knows that, despite all his power, whose cock he was made for. It is now a truth he will unabashedly declare whenever prompted, sometimes even without. He is Voclain’s perfect weapon, and also his perfect slut. Perfect.

“Daddy, please….I need your cock inside me…”

Voclain hums in consideration, then says. ”Your mouth first.”

Lucas eagerly complies, undoing Voclain’s trousers and shimmying back so he could arch his form and slurp at his Master’s cock. Voclain meanwhile continues playing with his hole, which he eagerly welcomes. It wasn’t long before Lucas moved on to swallowing down his Daddy’s cock, sucking the massive shaft all the way to the hilt like he was made for it. And he was.

”That’s my little cocksucker,” Voclain smirks as he thrusts upwards. Lucas moans around the intrusion, welcoming the friction of the thick shaft rubbing against the insides of his cheeks and his throat. It is pure ecstasy.

“You’ve learned so well, my boy.” Voclain observes, his own breathing slightly heavy as he fists Lucas’ hair and drives him onto his cock in repeated strokes. “So well behaved. The world didn’t deserve you.” He pulls Lucas off and smirks as a string of drool trails behind from Lucas’ wanton mouth. “Tell me, Lucas, are you still lonely?”

Lucas licks his lips, which had gotten swollen and puffy, and smiles. “No, Daddy.”

Voclain is satisfied that, even with his healing factor, Lucas’ voice became seductively hoarse from his thorough fucking. “And why is that?”

“Because I belong to you now, Daddy.” It’s clear from Lucas’ warm and fond eyes that he’s accepted that truth. Voclain smiles. His former mortal enemy, the one who once stood against him the most staunchly, is now putty in Voclain’s hands, is now his greatest asset. There is no more resistance from the former hero, no more doubt, only blind reverent obedience. It is just as it should be.

“That you do, my boy.”

Voclain reaches behind Lucas and pulls the plug away with a slick squelch, eliciting an aroused gasp from Lucas and leaving behind a slick and well stretched boypussy for Voclain to fuck. Lucas’ hole always needed to stay filled these days, and it’s better for the both of them like this. It helps remind Lucas of his place even when he goes off to demonstrate his Master’s might, and keep him wet and open for his Master whenever he’s wanted.

Voclain curls a few fingers, gesturing for Lucas to come back onto his lap. His boy complies obediently. Voclain kisses him. “Go on, take what you want, son.” He smirks against his lips as he slides his fingers across a beautifully tanned cheek to tighten in dark curls. Dark, lustful eyes gazes back at him as Lucas obeys, breathing out small, wanton noises that Voclain smugly devours. This boy is all his now. His and no one else’s. And as Lucas willingly and enthusiastically fucks himself back onto Voclain’s cock, he knows the boy agrees, and that he loves it. Power is his, and the world along with him. As it should be.

This story was heavily inspired by MissNaya’s “Blurry” Series on AO3. If you’re interested in more stories like this one, go check them out!

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