When I first wrote the mayor, I envisioned a young Eddie Cibrian. But both other suggestions are top-notch. Page is quite the dish! As for the doctor himself, I always prefer to describe POV protagonists as little as possible, so as to let the reader form their own picture. I have my image of what the Film Director looked like, for example, but I took great pains to not depict him. I'm trying to do the same with the doctor.Volobond wrote: ↑3 years agoI love Chris Hemsworth as Diesel and Sam Page as the mayor... but I was thinking Jake Gyllenhaal for Dr. Calamity?george_bound wrote: ↑3 years agoI agree with the first two @KidnappedCowboy but I'm seeing Sam Page or Scott Foley as the mayor... just becauseKidnappedCowboy wrote: ↑3 years ago @wataru14 I love how your story is shaping up. I picture Chris Hemsworth as Deisel, Tom Hiddleston as Dr. Calamity, and a young George Clooney as the Mayor.
The Abominable Dr. Calamity (M+/MM+) - Conclusion posted 9/12/20
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privateandrews
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 4 years ago
another great chapter.. you have hit just the right amount of evil/camp super villain.. cant wait for the nest instalment,,
Part 5 – The Hypnotron
Number 32 dragged the naked mayor in a short time later. He was fully decked out in his transport chain, cuffs, and leg shackles, and a leather plug gag had been inserted in his mouth and strapped behind his head. The mayor kicked and fought as Number 32 shoved him down into a heavy steel chair. Leather straps were brought across his chest, lap, thighs, and ankles, tightly securing him to the seat. He mmmphhgged and grunted in protest but I paid him no mind.
I plugged the VR helmet into the Hypnotron and placed it over the mayor’s head. The visor fully covered his face and he could see nothing but the dark vidscreen inside. “Now, Mr. Mayor,” I said. “I am going to let you go tomorrow, but not before I have a little ‘last hurrah.’ Be a dear and watch the screen, please.”
I switched on the Hypnotron. The vidscreen inside crackled to life and was a mass of swirling shapes and colors with no real pattern. A soft music began to play in his ears, a music that can only be described as Yoko Ono meets Philip Glass while falling down the stairs. Part of it was Calamity Cat walking over piano keys. While his senses were overloaded with the atonal music and spinning images, I picked up the mic.
“I want you to focus on my voice, and my voice alone,” I said, adopting a soothing and honeyed tone of voice. Subliminal images demanding submission and obedience flashed through the technicolor miasma on the vidscreen. “Let the colors wash over you. Let them strip you of conscious thought and bring out your subconscious. Expose it to me…”
The mayor thrashed in the chair, desperately trying to escape. But it was futile. The straps held him fast. Diesel MIGHT have been able to power out, but certainly not a baseline like the mayor. “Don’t fight it,” I cooed. “Give in… give in…” The mayor’s movements became slower and weaker. He fought with all his might, but the sensory overload was just too much. After another few moments he sat perfectly still. The hairs on his arms and chest stood up.
“Excellent,” I said. “This will go so much easier if you don’t resist. Let my words etch themselves into your subconscious… You are now MY creature. You work for ME. My needs now come before the needs of anyone else, even your own. When you embezzle funds, you will deposit them into my offshore account instead of yours. When you govern, you will think only of how laws will affect my enterprise and vote accordingly. When law enforcement wants to investigate me or interfere with my plans, you will stop them. Do you understand?”
Reading his brainwave patterns, I already knew he did, but making the victim say it himself had a cementing effect. The Hypnotron was by no means permanent, but that little step made the effects last much longer.
“Ymmmpphhhhssssss,” the mayor droned through his plug gag, drooling slightly.
“And that goes for superheroes, as well,” I continued. “Any who try to move against me will be called ‘dangerous vigilantes’ and declared outlaws. You will devote the entirety of your city’s resources to bringing them down and discrediting them. They can go after my colleagues all they want, but Dr. Calamity is off limits. Understand?”
“Ymmmpphhhhssssss.”
“Now, finally,” I said. “When you hear this sound…” (I played the first six bars of the Marriage of Figaro Overture) “…you will be overcome with the unquenchable desire to pleasure yourself. No matter where you are or who is around, you will be able to think of nothing else until you have climaxed and will go at it immediately.”
“Ymmmpphhhhssssss,” he said. That last part was completely unnecessary, I admit. But it was funny. And it could be a useful way to destroy his career when I no longer needed him, provided he didn’t manage to do it himself before I got the chance to. I could do so much to the mayor if I desired. Delete his memories, implant false ones, completely rewrite his personality... With his inner mind exposed to me I could dominate his as I pleased and he would never know what I had done.
I thought about leaving an obvious change to further embarrass him. Like make him only able to speak Mongolian or be deathly afraid of the color blue. Such things amused me, but I decided against it. If I made the alterations too obvious and someone would figure it out and undo them. And where's the fun in that?
“Now, you will count backwards from ten,” I said. “When you reach zero you will awaken with no conscious memory that this conversation ever happened. In fact, your waking mind will think the Hypnotron failed. Go!”
“Tnnnnn… niiiinnnnnnne…” When he reached zero, the mayor started bucking and thrashing around again, grunting through his gag.
“Oh, curses!” I said, removing the VR helmet. “It looks like the Hypnotron has no effect on you. Happens from time to time with the exceptionally strong-willed.”
The mayor stared at me with a smug expression on his face while I feigned disappointment. “It looks like Metro City will get their original mayor back after all and not Mayor Chicken,” I shrugged. “And I really wanted to see their faces when all you could do was cluck and scratch the ground. Oh, well.”
I signaled to Number 32. “Escort the mayor back to his cell and return the walls to their original state,” I said, giving him a quick wink. “You can leave the chains and gag or take them off as you please. It’s not like he can do anything about it, anyway.”
Number 32 unstrapped the mayor and pushed him out the door. “That was easier than I thought,” I said to myself. “Usually they show more resistance. He must be especially weak-minded. Not surprising considering his party affiliation.”
I wiped my hands on a towel. “But now I have bigger fish to fry.”
I walked down the hall to the Hero Cellblock, which housed the testing room. Diesel was spreadeagle in the center of the room. His hands were encased in blocks of steel above his head and his legs were trapped in similar blocks on the floor. His stance was wide apart in an “X” formation, leaving him fully exposed. He was looking around, scanning the walls and machinery for any flaw he could exploit. Of course, there were none, but you can’t fault a man for trying. His collar was on and operational, and he was still naked and cock caged. When he saw me, he struggled against the steel blocks that held him.
“You may think you’ve won, Dr. Calamity, but you’ll never break me!” he said defiantly.
“Relax, I said,” I’m not here to torture you. First and foremost, I am a man of science. We know so little about you and your capabilities. The Villains’ Guild will be quite interested in learning the bounds of your powers.”
With that I started pressing buttons on my laptop. The light on Diesel’s collar switched off. “Don’t even think about it,” I said. “The dampener is gone but there is a gravity field around that apparatus. If you so much as look in the wrong direction, I set it for “Jupiter” and, as Homer Simpson said, ‘Stupid bug, you go squish now!’”
Diesel gritted his teeth. “Now,” I said. “We’re going to do some experiments on you. For SCIENCE!” I chuckled. Diesel didn’t seem to appreciate the humor. Meh, everyone’s a critic. “But don’t worry. This isn’t going to be ‘Torture Session 2.0.’ I filled my quota for the week on that. You might actually find what follows to be quite enjoyable…” Two nozzles extended down from the ceiling on either side of Diesel and pointed at him. “You might want to close your eyes for this.”
Confused, Diesel did as I instructed. When his eyes were closed, I switched on the machine. Both nozzles circled him, spraying him in a black liquid substance like some kind of evil car wash. The goo coated his body from neck to feet, and up and down his arms. After a few seconds, it congealed into a slick black coating, resembling a wetsuit in texture and flexibility. Only his head and caged genitals were left uncovered. “All done,” I said. “You can safely open your eyes now.”
Diesel looked down at the black coating. “What fiendish trick is this?” he said.
I activated the neuro-paralyzer and froze him in place, then I deactivated the blocks and retracted them into the floor and ceiling, releasing Diesel’s hands and feet from their prison. “It’s a special creation of mine. Nanobot-infused microfilaments.” I switched on my monitor. A complete diagnostic of Diesel’s body functions displayed. Heart rate, blood pressure, neural activity, the works. “Right now they’re collecting data, but they have plenty of other settings.”
I opened a cabinet and took out a set of ornate leather restraints. I was majority owner of most of the city’s S&M shops and being the boss gave me my choice of the merchandise. I pulled Diesel’s arms behind him and positioned them with his forearms parallel to both each other and the floor against the middle of his back. Gingerly, I placed his wrists in the cuffs and buckled them to his forearms, forcing his arms into a pleasing = position. I was going to have the nanites stimulate his pleasure receptors a little, but a quick look at the brainwave activity on the monitor gave me a rather pleasant surprise!
It looks like I didn’t need to stimulate him after all. His pleasure receptors were lighting up like the 4th of July. “Well well well!” I said. “Could it be that the mighty hero has a secret fetish? Could it be that being restrained pleases him?”
Diesel stammered and sweated profusely. “I… uh… what is your evil machine doing to me?” he unconvincingly protested. “It’s altering my brainwaves and… uh…”
“Oh, give it up,” I said, dismissively waving my hand. “You’re not fooling anyone. This is certainly a welcome turn of events. Hunker down, muscle boy, I think you’re going to like what comes next.” I removed the power dampening collar completely (the nanites suppressed his powers on their own so it was no longer necessary) and buckled a thick, wide leather one over Diesel’s throat. A leather strap hung down from the back that I buckled into a waiting slot on the restraints securing his hands. Pulling it taut before buckling it forced Diesel's head back and chest out. Again, the neural activity flared up. I smiled as I applied leather cuffs to his ankles and buckled them together.
I could see Diesel’s gearshift beginning to stir inside the plastic prison it was encased in. I used the Repulsor Field generator to gently lower him to his side on the floor. Diesel’s eyes grew wide as I moved my hands to the chastity device. “I bet you want me to take this off, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Diesel moaned, his synapses exploding. “Please…”
“Well since you moaned so nicely,” I said, smirking. I undid the locking mechanism and removed the plastic cage. Diesel swelled to full attention. I have seen many amazing things in my career as a mad scientist, but I must say that I was greatly impressed! I wondered if the length and girth was an aftereffect of his powers, or if he was naturally endowed. I didn't know, but just imagined all the fun I'd have doing the research! I grinned as I took the milking device from the counter and slid the sheath over Diesel’s shaft, creating a seal with the nanite suit already on him.
“Now, Mr. Hero,” I said. “Let’s start the testing.”
Coming Soon: Part 6 – Release (in more ways than one)
Number 32 dragged the naked mayor in a short time later. He was fully decked out in his transport chain, cuffs, and leg shackles, and a leather plug gag had been inserted in his mouth and strapped behind his head. The mayor kicked and fought as Number 32 shoved him down into a heavy steel chair. Leather straps were brought across his chest, lap, thighs, and ankles, tightly securing him to the seat. He mmmphhgged and grunted in protest but I paid him no mind.
I plugged the VR helmet into the Hypnotron and placed it over the mayor’s head. The visor fully covered his face and he could see nothing but the dark vidscreen inside. “Now, Mr. Mayor,” I said. “I am going to let you go tomorrow, but not before I have a little ‘last hurrah.’ Be a dear and watch the screen, please.”
I switched on the Hypnotron. The vidscreen inside crackled to life and was a mass of swirling shapes and colors with no real pattern. A soft music began to play in his ears, a music that can only be described as Yoko Ono meets Philip Glass while falling down the stairs. Part of it was Calamity Cat walking over piano keys. While his senses were overloaded with the atonal music and spinning images, I picked up the mic.
“I want you to focus on my voice, and my voice alone,” I said, adopting a soothing and honeyed tone of voice. Subliminal images demanding submission and obedience flashed through the technicolor miasma on the vidscreen. “Let the colors wash over you. Let them strip you of conscious thought and bring out your subconscious. Expose it to me…”
The mayor thrashed in the chair, desperately trying to escape. But it was futile. The straps held him fast. Diesel MIGHT have been able to power out, but certainly not a baseline like the mayor. “Don’t fight it,” I cooed. “Give in… give in…” The mayor’s movements became slower and weaker. He fought with all his might, but the sensory overload was just too much. After another few moments he sat perfectly still. The hairs on his arms and chest stood up.
“Excellent,” I said. “This will go so much easier if you don’t resist. Let my words etch themselves into your subconscious… You are now MY creature. You work for ME. My needs now come before the needs of anyone else, even your own. When you embezzle funds, you will deposit them into my offshore account instead of yours. When you govern, you will think only of how laws will affect my enterprise and vote accordingly. When law enforcement wants to investigate me or interfere with my plans, you will stop them. Do you understand?”
Reading his brainwave patterns, I already knew he did, but making the victim say it himself had a cementing effect. The Hypnotron was by no means permanent, but that little step made the effects last much longer.
“Ymmmpphhhhssssss,” the mayor droned through his plug gag, drooling slightly.
“And that goes for superheroes, as well,” I continued. “Any who try to move against me will be called ‘dangerous vigilantes’ and declared outlaws. You will devote the entirety of your city’s resources to bringing them down and discrediting them. They can go after my colleagues all they want, but Dr. Calamity is off limits. Understand?”
“Ymmmpphhhhssssss.”
“Now, finally,” I said. “When you hear this sound…” (I played the first six bars of the Marriage of Figaro Overture) “…you will be overcome with the unquenchable desire to pleasure yourself. No matter where you are or who is around, you will be able to think of nothing else until you have climaxed and will go at it immediately.”
“Ymmmpphhhhssssss,” he said. That last part was completely unnecessary, I admit. But it was funny. And it could be a useful way to destroy his career when I no longer needed him, provided he didn’t manage to do it himself before I got the chance to. I could do so much to the mayor if I desired. Delete his memories, implant false ones, completely rewrite his personality... With his inner mind exposed to me I could dominate his as I pleased and he would never know what I had done.
I thought about leaving an obvious change to further embarrass him. Like make him only able to speak Mongolian or be deathly afraid of the color blue. Such things amused me, but I decided against it. If I made the alterations too obvious and someone would figure it out and undo them. And where's the fun in that?
“Now, you will count backwards from ten,” I said. “When you reach zero you will awaken with no conscious memory that this conversation ever happened. In fact, your waking mind will think the Hypnotron failed. Go!”
“Tnnnnn… niiiinnnnnnne…” When he reached zero, the mayor started bucking and thrashing around again, grunting through his gag.
“Oh, curses!” I said, removing the VR helmet. “It looks like the Hypnotron has no effect on you. Happens from time to time with the exceptionally strong-willed.”
The mayor stared at me with a smug expression on his face while I feigned disappointment. “It looks like Metro City will get their original mayor back after all and not Mayor Chicken,” I shrugged. “And I really wanted to see their faces when all you could do was cluck and scratch the ground. Oh, well.”
I signaled to Number 32. “Escort the mayor back to his cell and return the walls to their original state,” I said, giving him a quick wink. “You can leave the chains and gag or take them off as you please. It’s not like he can do anything about it, anyway.”
Number 32 unstrapped the mayor and pushed him out the door. “That was easier than I thought,” I said to myself. “Usually they show more resistance. He must be especially weak-minded. Not surprising considering his party affiliation.”
I wiped my hands on a towel. “But now I have bigger fish to fry.”
I walked down the hall to the Hero Cellblock, which housed the testing room. Diesel was spreadeagle in the center of the room. His hands were encased in blocks of steel above his head and his legs were trapped in similar blocks on the floor. His stance was wide apart in an “X” formation, leaving him fully exposed. He was looking around, scanning the walls and machinery for any flaw he could exploit. Of course, there were none, but you can’t fault a man for trying. His collar was on and operational, and he was still naked and cock caged. When he saw me, he struggled against the steel blocks that held him.
“You may think you’ve won, Dr. Calamity, but you’ll never break me!” he said defiantly.
“Relax, I said,” I’m not here to torture you. First and foremost, I am a man of science. We know so little about you and your capabilities. The Villains’ Guild will be quite interested in learning the bounds of your powers.”
With that I started pressing buttons on my laptop. The light on Diesel’s collar switched off. “Don’t even think about it,” I said. “The dampener is gone but there is a gravity field around that apparatus. If you so much as look in the wrong direction, I set it for “Jupiter” and, as Homer Simpson said, ‘Stupid bug, you go squish now!’”
Diesel gritted his teeth. “Now,” I said. “We’re going to do some experiments on you. For SCIENCE!” I chuckled. Diesel didn’t seem to appreciate the humor. Meh, everyone’s a critic. “But don’t worry. This isn’t going to be ‘Torture Session 2.0.’ I filled my quota for the week on that. You might actually find what follows to be quite enjoyable…” Two nozzles extended down from the ceiling on either side of Diesel and pointed at him. “You might want to close your eyes for this.”
Confused, Diesel did as I instructed. When his eyes were closed, I switched on the machine. Both nozzles circled him, spraying him in a black liquid substance like some kind of evil car wash. The goo coated his body from neck to feet, and up and down his arms. After a few seconds, it congealed into a slick black coating, resembling a wetsuit in texture and flexibility. Only his head and caged genitals were left uncovered. “All done,” I said. “You can safely open your eyes now.”
Diesel looked down at the black coating. “What fiendish trick is this?” he said.
I activated the neuro-paralyzer and froze him in place, then I deactivated the blocks and retracted them into the floor and ceiling, releasing Diesel’s hands and feet from their prison. “It’s a special creation of mine. Nanobot-infused microfilaments.” I switched on my monitor. A complete diagnostic of Diesel’s body functions displayed. Heart rate, blood pressure, neural activity, the works. “Right now they’re collecting data, but they have plenty of other settings.”
I opened a cabinet and took out a set of ornate leather restraints. I was majority owner of most of the city’s S&M shops and being the boss gave me my choice of the merchandise. I pulled Diesel’s arms behind him and positioned them with his forearms parallel to both each other and the floor against the middle of his back. Gingerly, I placed his wrists in the cuffs and buckled them to his forearms, forcing his arms into a pleasing = position. I was going to have the nanites stimulate his pleasure receptors a little, but a quick look at the brainwave activity on the monitor gave me a rather pleasant surprise!
It looks like I didn’t need to stimulate him after all. His pleasure receptors were lighting up like the 4th of July. “Well well well!” I said. “Could it be that the mighty hero has a secret fetish? Could it be that being restrained pleases him?”
Diesel stammered and sweated profusely. “I… uh… what is your evil machine doing to me?” he unconvincingly protested. “It’s altering my brainwaves and… uh…”
“Oh, give it up,” I said, dismissively waving my hand. “You’re not fooling anyone. This is certainly a welcome turn of events. Hunker down, muscle boy, I think you’re going to like what comes next.” I removed the power dampening collar completely (the nanites suppressed his powers on their own so it was no longer necessary) and buckled a thick, wide leather one over Diesel’s throat. A leather strap hung down from the back that I buckled into a waiting slot on the restraints securing his hands. Pulling it taut before buckling it forced Diesel's head back and chest out. Again, the neural activity flared up. I smiled as I applied leather cuffs to his ankles and buckled them together.
I could see Diesel’s gearshift beginning to stir inside the plastic prison it was encased in. I used the Repulsor Field generator to gently lower him to his side on the floor. Diesel’s eyes grew wide as I moved my hands to the chastity device. “I bet you want me to take this off, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Diesel moaned, his synapses exploding. “Please…”
“Well since you moaned so nicely,” I said, smirking. I undid the locking mechanism and removed the plastic cage. Diesel swelled to full attention. I have seen many amazing things in my career as a mad scientist, but I must say that I was greatly impressed! I wondered if the length and girth was an aftereffect of his powers, or if he was naturally endowed. I didn't know, but just imagined all the fun I'd have doing the research! I grinned as I took the milking device from the counter and slid the sheath over Diesel’s shaft, creating a seal with the nanite suit already on him.
“Now, Mr. Hero,” I said. “Let’s start the testing.”
Coming Soon: Part 6 – Release (in more ways than one)
Yaay! Again, delightful! The hypnosis scene was wonderful, with our delightfully denuded mayor (and I really appreciate that he was kept gagged). And Diesel being a bondage enthusiast? The best of twists. AND milking to come?
A story that keeps on pleasing, my friend. So humorous and oh so hot. As always, I can't wait for the next chapter!
A story that keeps on pleasing, my friend. So humorous and oh so hot. As always, I can't wait for the next chapter!
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KidnappedCowboy
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 976
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: USA
- Contact:
Omigod! Where do I start?
Great description of the music inside the helmet...
What I enjoyed the most was the voice of Dr. Calamity hypnotizing and planting suggestions in Mr. Mayor's head. It reminded me of "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" when Blofeld hypnotizes and plants suggestions in the minds of the twelve models, so they can distribute agents of bacteriological warfare.
I infinitely prefer what Dr. Calamity does to the Mayor. The Mayor is such a tool!!
And then, the pièce de résistance: Diesel encased in a form-fitted wetsuit-like sack! [mention]wataru14[/mention] You have pushed all my buttons with this chapter!
Diesel may not end up like this, but [mention]wataru14[mention]
You have stoked my imagination. Thank you!!
Great description of the music inside the helmet...
Yoko Ono meets Philip Glass while falling down the stairs
What I enjoyed the most was the voice of Dr. Calamity hypnotizing and planting suggestions in Mr. Mayor's head. It reminded me of "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" when Blofeld hypnotizes and plants suggestions in the minds of the twelve models, so they can distribute agents of bacteriological warfare.
I infinitely prefer what Dr. Calamity does to the Mayor. The Mayor is such a tool!!
And then, the pièce de résistance: Diesel encased in a form-fitted wetsuit-like sack! [mention]wataru14[/mention] You have pushed all my buttons with this chapter!
Diesel may not end up like this, but [mention]wataru14[mention]
You have stoked my imagination. Thank you!!
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DeeperThanRed
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 964
- Joined: 6 years ago
For some reason hypnosis is infinetely hotter when the victim is trying to resist while bound and gagged. You can really see that Dr. Calamity was enjoying himself.
Diesel's encasing and involuntary arousal was equally entertaining. Can't wait for the milking session.
Diesel's encasing and involuntary arousal was equally entertaining. Can't wait for the milking session.
25-year-old bondage enthusiast who likes cute guys, underwear, and bondage, preferably together.
You can reach my list of written work here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
You can reach my list of written work here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
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privateandrews
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 4 years ago
OH my oh my , how much am i enjoying this story.
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george_bound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 330
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Ontario, Canada
Well well that was... um... I'm without words... wow!
Ah that wily mayor resisting the Hypnotron...oh well that means we get to see more of him in captivity
And I'd like to hear an audio sampling of Yoko Ono meets Philip Glass meets Calamity Cat! But then again no thanks... I don't want to be copping a feel of myself whenever the Doctor commands, haha!
Well all I can say for Diesel is surf's up, dude... I suspect he'll be catching a huge "gush" of his own wave very soon
Great work as always [mention]wataru14[/mention], looking forward to the upcoming release
Ah that wily mayor resisting the Hypnotron...oh well that means we get to see more of him in captivity
And I'd like to hear an audio sampling of Yoko Ono meets Philip Glass meets Calamity Cat! But then again no thanks... I don't want to be copping a feel of myself whenever the Doctor commands, haha!
Well all I can say for Diesel is surf's up, dude... I suspect he'll be catching a huge "gush" of his own wave very soon
Great work as always [mention]wataru14[/mention], looking forward to the upcoming release
I cannot tell you all how happy I am that you're enjoying my work. It really means a lot to hear!
Part 6 – Release (in more ways than one)
By manipulating the nanites, I could stimulate every part of Diesel’s body. Subtle pressure here, heat there, a bit of pain somewhere else. And all the time, the milking device pumping and vibrating. He was so engrossed in the manipulation of his balls and cock that he didn’t notice me getting detailed biometric readings of his powers. Scans of his muscle tissue revealed the upper bounds of his strength levels. Slight exposure to trace radiation and other energy types allowed me to gauge his durability. Electric jolts revealed his pain threshold and heart rate acceleration. He was putty in my hands.
In a normal testing environment he would have resisted. Or attempted to underperform so as to catch me off-guard in a later encounter. But not this time. All Diesel could think about was the feel of the slick leather restraints embracing him and the steady humming of the milking machine. His back arched as waves rippled through his body from the machine’s vibrations. Even though he was not gagged, he couldn’t form coherent words. Just savage grunts and tortured moaning. When the diagnostic was complete and his power levels were being tabulated, I decided to have a little fun with him.
I increased the intensity of the milking machine. It sped up and supercharged the suction and vibration levels. Diesel’s gasping and panting increased in speed and intensity as well. And when the biometric scan revealed that he was just a hair away from the climax… I switched the machine off.
“Aaarrrrgghhhh!” Diesel howled in frustration. He thrust his hips back and forth impotently against the air, desperate for some friction. Anything to push him over the edge. But it was for naught. I even switched the nanites to Numbness Mode for a laugh. When he started to creep back from climax, I switched the machine back on with a devilish grin. “Fuck yes!” he cried, overjoyed that the stimulation had returned. I let him approach the edge once more, toeing the line, and… off again!
“Fuuuuuuuck!” Diesel groaned. Three more times we repeated this dance. Each time his frustrated howls became more wild and frantic. Finally, when I thought he had suffered enough, I called out.
“Beg me,” is all I said.
“Please!!!!” he screamed. “Let me cum! Do whatever else you want but please!!!!!!”
Smiling, I switched the machine on and allowed him to climax. When he shot, the milking machine collected it all and pumped him dry. The sample collected in a tank on the side of the machine for later study. I didn’t think so much could come out of one man! I soundlessly stood, watching him writhe. The only noises in the room where his whimpers, the beeping of the machinery, and the creak of his leather restraints as he tried to mentally process all that had transpired.
I looked at the (literal) killswitch on the nanites, but decided not to use it. This puzzled me. Against all better judgment I found had developed a strange attachment to the musclebound lunkhead and wished him no further harm. It was more than just a physical attraction or the joy from subjugating a larger and stronger man. It unnerved me a little. I stood while in thought, watching him, then a sinister plan began to formulate.
“I’ll just leave you here to marinade in your own juices, so to speak,” I said with a laugh. I hit a button and the milking machine retreated into the wall. The nanites disassociated, running off him like a viscous black river. The pile of goo climbed up the wall and disappeared into an access port, ready for its next deployment. Other than the sweat that coated his body, the captive hero was clean. I left Diesel naked and whimpering on the floor and returned to the Command Center.
“Number 1! Number 2!,” I called as I entered. “Top secret meeting time!” The two lead henchmen hurried to my throne and I activated the Cone of Silence so no one could hear our discussion.
-------------------------------------------
Diesel lay on the cold concrete floor, his mind running in 10 different directions. “He knows my secret,” he thought. “That I enjoy this. But something doesn’t make sense. All this and he left my mask on. Why? And why didn’t he kill me? He’s done it before…”
Diesel squirmed in his restraints, reveling in the feel and smell of the leather against his bare skin. He writhed for a moment and then he realized something. Bare skin? The inhibitor collar was gone! And so were the nanites! There was nothing negating his powers! With a quick flex of his arm muscles, the leather cuffs snapped apart. He reached down and obliterated the ankle cuffs before tearing the leather collar off his throat. He was free!
“Wait,” Diesel thought. “He did this once before. It could be another trick… No. I have to risk it.”
Diesel opened the door to the hallway and peered outside. “Dr. Calamity always came from that direction,” Diesel thought, looking left. “That must be where the Command Center is. Time for some payback on that scrawny bastard!” He started to move, eager to exact revenge for the indignities he suffered, but stopped. “No,” he thought. “The mayor’s safety is more important.” He turned and ran in the other direction to the prison wing.
The mayor was more important, Diesel thought. But was that it? He found that, in the depth of his mind, he didn’t want to go after the doctor. There was something about him that Diesel found alluring. Was it his mind? His creativity? The doctor had style, he had to admit. He had undergone restraint escape training with the Hero League, but that was all cold and sterile. Clinical. And, he realized, completely ineffective. Everything seemed to come alive when the Doctor in control. Vibrant. Energizing. The Doctor seemed to genuinely enjoy it. As much as he did, himself, Diesel thought. He couldn’t get the Doctor out of his mind as he crept down the corridor, carefully avoiding the sweeping cameras.
When he got to the prison wing, a single henchmen sat at the desk. He was watching football on a vidscreen and didn’t notice Diesel’s presence. With startling speed, the massive hero lept on him from behind, catching the guard in a tight sleeper hold. “Nighty night!” he taunted as the guard slipped into soft unconsciousness. Checking to see that the henchman was OK and that there were no others around to see, he dragged the sleeping guard into a nearby empty cell.
Working quickly, he completely stripped the henchman of his uniform. Grabbing the utility belt, he found a pair of handcuffs, which he used to secure the guard’s hands behind his back. Diesel slipped on the guard’s boxers. They were several sizes too small, but it was better than nothing. He bound the guard’s feet with his belt and gagged him with his own socks. “That should keep you quiet and out of my hair until I get us out of here,” Diesel whispered.
“Last time I started breaking everything and an alarm went off, “Diesel thought. “Better take the gentle approach.” He snatched the henchman’s clothes and gear and hurried down the hall to the mayor’s cell.
The mayor gasped in surprise as he saw Diesel appear at the bars. The big man made a “shhhh” gesture and unlocked the cell door with the key. It slid open without a sound. Diesel slipped in and used the guard’s keys to release the mayor from his chains. “Are you OK?” he whispered, respectfully averting his eyes and handing the mayor the henchman’s shirt, pants, and shoes.
“Yes, thankfully,” the mayor said as he quickly dressed. “That monster tried to screw around with my mind, but his machine had no effect on me. Some ‘genius’ he is.”
“Great!” Diesel whispered. The fact that none of the Doctor’s other machines had malfunctioned in the slightest did not occur to him. “Now let’s get out of here. I saw an exit door nearby.” Waving the mayor to him, Diesel took off down the hall. As soon as the pair left the prison wing and entered the corridor leading to the exit, a platoon of henchmen appeared on routine patrol. Surprised at seeing the escape attempt unfolding, they reacted immediately and took out their handguns. They opened fire, sending a hail of tranquilizer darts down the hall. Diesel shoved the mayor behind him and the projectiles bounced harmlessly off his bare chest, not even pricking his skin.
“Looks like they’re on to us, mayor” Diesel said. “No need to be quiet anymore!” The hero grabbed the wall and pulled off an entire panel of shiny silver metal. He ran towards the henchman, using it as a tower shield. The henchmen retreated, now firing real bullets, but were soon backed into a dead end. Diesel corralled them together and bent the metal sheet into a tube, constraining them inside. “That oughta hold ya!” he said. “This way, mayor!”
Diesel ran to an exterior access door and opened it, revealing the rear grounds of the compound. He scooped the mayor up in his arms like a bride, ran to the wall, and lept fully 15 feet in the air. He came down with a soft thud on the other side and ran into the safety of the forest.
Number 1 looked away from the vidscreen. “You sure that’s what you wanted, boss?”
“Yes,” I said. “Let him have his small victory. Don’t worry about the ransom money, either. I programmed the mayor in the Hypnotron. He’ll be filling our coffers on the side very soon and no one will be the wiser.”
“Ok, boss, whatever you say,” Number 1 said. “Hey, are you all right? You look like something’s bothering you. Me and the guys don’t like it when you’re upset. You’re more than just a boss to us, ya know.”
I was touched. I truly didn’t know what to say.
“A few of us are going bowling tonight after work,” he said. “You wanna fire up the Image Inducer and come out with us? You look like you could use some distraction. They, uh, got a new bartender at the bowling alley and he’s just the type you like.”
I smiled gratefully. “That sounds fantastic! I would love that, actually. Tell you what: you two get Number 39 out of that cell and send a crew to release Delta Squad and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Affirmative! Beer’s on you, though,” Number 1 joked as he saluted and hurried out of the Command Center with Number 2.
Coming Soon: Part 7 – A Chance Encounter
By manipulating the nanites, I could stimulate every part of Diesel’s body. Subtle pressure here, heat there, a bit of pain somewhere else. And all the time, the milking device pumping and vibrating. He was so engrossed in the manipulation of his balls and cock that he didn’t notice me getting detailed biometric readings of his powers. Scans of his muscle tissue revealed the upper bounds of his strength levels. Slight exposure to trace radiation and other energy types allowed me to gauge his durability. Electric jolts revealed his pain threshold and heart rate acceleration. He was putty in my hands.
In a normal testing environment he would have resisted. Or attempted to underperform so as to catch me off-guard in a later encounter. But not this time. All Diesel could think about was the feel of the slick leather restraints embracing him and the steady humming of the milking machine. His back arched as waves rippled through his body from the machine’s vibrations. Even though he was not gagged, he couldn’t form coherent words. Just savage grunts and tortured moaning. When the diagnostic was complete and his power levels were being tabulated, I decided to have a little fun with him.
I increased the intensity of the milking machine. It sped up and supercharged the suction and vibration levels. Diesel’s gasping and panting increased in speed and intensity as well. And when the biometric scan revealed that he was just a hair away from the climax… I switched the machine off.
“Aaarrrrgghhhh!” Diesel howled in frustration. He thrust his hips back and forth impotently against the air, desperate for some friction. Anything to push him over the edge. But it was for naught. I even switched the nanites to Numbness Mode for a laugh. When he started to creep back from climax, I switched the machine back on with a devilish grin. “Fuck yes!” he cried, overjoyed that the stimulation had returned. I let him approach the edge once more, toeing the line, and… off again!
“Fuuuuuuuck!” Diesel groaned. Three more times we repeated this dance. Each time his frustrated howls became more wild and frantic. Finally, when I thought he had suffered enough, I called out.
“Beg me,” is all I said.
“Please!!!!” he screamed. “Let me cum! Do whatever else you want but please!!!!!!”
Smiling, I switched the machine on and allowed him to climax. When he shot, the milking machine collected it all and pumped him dry. The sample collected in a tank on the side of the machine for later study. I didn’t think so much could come out of one man! I soundlessly stood, watching him writhe. The only noises in the room where his whimpers, the beeping of the machinery, and the creak of his leather restraints as he tried to mentally process all that had transpired.
I looked at the (literal) killswitch on the nanites, but decided not to use it. This puzzled me. Against all better judgment I found had developed a strange attachment to the musclebound lunkhead and wished him no further harm. It was more than just a physical attraction or the joy from subjugating a larger and stronger man. It unnerved me a little. I stood while in thought, watching him, then a sinister plan began to formulate.
“I’ll just leave you here to marinade in your own juices, so to speak,” I said with a laugh. I hit a button and the milking machine retreated into the wall. The nanites disassociated, running off him like a viscous black river. The pile of goo climbed up the wall and disappeared into an access port, ready for its next deployment. Other than the sweat that coated his body, the captive hero was clean. I left Diesel naked and whimpering on the floor and returned to the Command Center.
“Number 1! Number 2!,” I called as I entered. “Top secret meeting time!” The two lead henchmen hurried to my throne and I activated the Cone of Silence so no one could hear our discussion.
-------------------------------------------
Diesel lay on the cold concrete floor, his mind running in 10 different directions. “He knows my secret,” he thought. “That I enjoy this. But something doesn’t make sense. All this and he left my mask on. Why? And why didn’t he kill me? He’s done it before…”
Diesel squirmed in his restraints, reveling in the feel and smell of the leather against his bare skin. He writhed for a moment and then he realized something. Bare skin? The inhibitor collar was gone! And so were the nanites! There was nothing negating his powers! With a quick flex of his arm muscles, the leather cuffs snapped apart. He reached down and obliterated the ankle cuffs before tearing the leather collar off his throat. He was free!
“Wait,” Diesel thought. “He did this once before. It could be another trick… No. I have to risk it.”
Diesel opened the door to the hallway and peered outside. “Dr. Calamity always came from that direction,” Diesel thought, looking left. “That must be where the Command Center is. Time for some payback on that scrawny bastard!” He started to move, eager to exact revenge for the indignities he suffered, but stopped. “No,” he thought. “The mayor’s safety is more important.” He turned and ran in the other direction to the prison wing.
The mayor was more important, Diesel thought. But was that it? He found that, in the depth of his mind, he didn’t want to go after the doctor. There was something about him that Diesel found alluring. Was it his mind? His creativity? The doctor had style, he had to admit. He had undergone restraint escape training with the Hero League, but that was all cold and sterile. Clinical. And, he realized, completely ineffective. Everything seemed to come alive when the Doctor in control. Vibrant. Energizing. The Doctor seemed to genuinely enjoy it. As much as he did, himself, Diesel thought. He couldn’t get the Doctor out of his mind as he crept down the corridor, carefully avoiding the sweeping cameras.
When he got to the prison wing, a single henchmen sat at the desk. He was watching football on a vidscreen and didn’t notice Diesel’s presence. With startling speed, the massive hero lept on him from behind, catching the guard in a tight sleeper hold. “Nighty night!” he taunted as the guard slipped into soft unconsciousness. Checking to see that the henchman was OK and that there were no others around to see, he dragged the sleeping guard into a nearby empty cell.
Working quickly, he completely stripped the henchman of his uniform. Grabbing the utility belt, he found a pair of handcuffs, which he used to secure the guard’s hands behind his back. Diesel slipped on the guard’s boxers. They were several sizes too small, but it was better than nothing. He bound the guard’s feet with his belt and gagged him with his own socks. “That should keep you quiet and out of my hair until I get us out of here,” Diesel whispered.
“Last time I started breaking everything and an alarm went off, “Diesel thought. “Better take the gentle approach.” He snatched the henchman’s clothes and gear and hurried down the hall to the mayor’s cell.
The mayor gasped in surprise as he saw Diesel appear at the bars. The big man made a “shhhh” gesture and unlocked the cell door with the key. It slid open without a sound. Diesel slipped in and used the guard’s keys to release the mayor from his chains. “Are you OK?” he whispered, respectfully averting his eyes and handing the mayor the henchman’s shirt, pants, and shoes.
“Yes, thankfully,” the mayor said as he quickly dressed. “That monster tried to screw around with my mind, but his machine had no effect on me. Some ‘genius’ he is.”
“Great!” Diesel whispered. The fact that none of the Doctor’s other machines had malfunctioned in the slightest did not occur to him. “Now let’s get out of here. I saw an exit door nearby.” Waving the mayor to him, Diesel took off down the hall. As soon as the pair left the prison wing and entered the corridor leading to the exit, a platoon of henchmen appeared on routine patrol. Surprised at seeing the escape attempt unfolding, they reacted immediately and took out their handguns. They opened fire, sending a hail of tranquilizer darts down the hall. Diesel shoved the mayor behind him and the projectiles bounced harmlessly off his bare chest, not even pricking his skin.
“Looks like they’re on to us, mayor” Diesel said. “No need to be quiet anymore!” The hero grabbed the wall and pulled off an entire panel of shiny silver metal. He ran towards the henchman, using it as a tower shield. The henchmen retreated, now firing real bullets, but were soon backed into a dead end. Diesel corralled them together and bent the metal sheet into a tube, constraining them inside. “That oughta hold ya!” he said. “This way, mayor!”
Diesel ran to an exterior access door and opened it, revealing the rear grounds of the compound. He scooped the mayor up in his arms like a bride, ran to the wall, and lept fully 15 feet in the air. He came down with a soft thud on the other side and ran into the safety of the forest.
Number 1 looked away from the vidscreen. “You sure that’s what you wanted, boss?”
“Yes,” I said. “Let him have his small victory. Don’t worry about the ransom money, either. I programmed the mayor in the Hypnotron. He’ll be filling our coffers on the side very soon and no one will be the wiser.”
“Ok, boss, whatever you say,” Number 1 said. “Hey, are you all right? You look like something’s bothering you. Me and the guys don’t like it when you’re upset. You’re more than just a boss to us, ya know.”
I was touched. I truly didn’t know what to say.
“A few of us are going bowling tonight after work,” he said. “You wanna fire up the Image Inducer and come out with us? You look like you could use some distraction. They, uh, got a new bartender at the bowling alley and he’s just the type you like.”
I smiled gratefully. “That sounds fantastic! I would love that, actually. Tell you what: you two get Number 39 out of that cell and send a crew to release Delta Squad and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Affirmative! Beer’s on you, though,” Number 1 joked as he saluted and hurried out of the Command Center with Number 2.
Coming Soon: Part 7 – A Chance Encounter
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KidnappedCowboy
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 976
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: USA
- Contact:
Wow! 
First rate installment. Kudos!
Is Dr. Calamity falling for the doofus Deisel?
Glad to see the Mayor has his cockiness intact...Wait til he sees what a fall he'll take!
Nice touch with the boxers being two sizes too small.
Well done, [mention]wataru14[/mention]
First rate installment. Kudos!
Is Dr. Calamity falling for the doofus Deisel?
Glad to see the Mayor has his cockiness intact...Wait til he sees what a fall he'll take!
Nice touch with the boxers being two sizes too small.
Well done, [mention]wataru14[/mention]
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DeeperThanRed
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 964
- Joined: 6 years ago
Man, I loved reading from Diesel's POV. It really drives the differences between him and the evil Dr. home.
The romantic (?) tension was unexpected but not unwelcome. I guess sharing an intense milking session does have that effect on people. Still, their doubts about it are portrayed very expertly.
The romantic (?) tension was unexpected but not unwelcome. I guess sharing an intense milking session does have that effect on people. Still, their doubts about it are portrayed very expertly.
25-year-old bondage enthusiast who likes cute guys, underwear, and bondage, preferably together.
You can reach my list of written work here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
You can reach my list of written work here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
Every installmemt just gets better and better! I'm loving the sweet little romance bubbling up between hero and villain, and I'm hoping it leads up to some more captivity for Diesel... I wonder if the good Doctor will recognize him out of his mask...
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george_bound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 330
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Ontario, Canada
Love it... love it... love it... that release scene was so incredibly hot!
As a data person, I applaud the Doctor's meticulous tracking and documenting of all Diesel's stats... and particularly his weaknesses. I have a strong hunch the Doctor has big plans for his love interest and he's not going to strike out
For myself, I'd like to see Sam Page... I mean the mayor... shackled and captive again
As a data person, I applaud the Doctor's meticulous tracking and documenting of all Diesel's stats... and particularly his weaknesses. I have a strong hunch the Doctor has big plans for his love interest and he's not going to strike out
For myself, I'd like to see Sam Page... I mean the mayor... shackled and captive again
So hot!! Wish to see more of Diesel's torture by Dr Calamity.
Part 7 – A Chance Encounter
When we got to the bowling alley around 8 that night, the mayor had been all over the news all day. He had given a press conference about his rescue and gave Diesel a medal for heroism. The other members of the Hero League were in attendance for the photo op and you could tell they were gritting their teeth and forcing smiles in support of their Junior Colleague. Their Junior Colleague who showed them all up by saving the mayor alone while they sat on their spandex-covered butts. Some of the talking heads had already picked up on that. Beginning to see why I let them escape? I thought you would.
I had set the Image Inducer to “Completely Average Redneck,” as I figured it wouldn’t stand out in a bowling alley. You wouldn’t think it, but bowling was actually quite difficult for someone like me. When you’re a master of physics, you know exactly how to spin the ball for perfect positioning and exactly how hard to roll for perfect momentum. It was the same with tennis. I had to purposely hold back to not look like a total douchebag.
There were five of us in total, so we piled in Number 1 (Dave)’s SUV. When we got there I scouted the ball rack and gave Kevin (Number 2) my bank card to buy beer while Dave rented the lane. Of course I had my own shoes! No way I’m letting those foul communal things anywhere near me. Dave had his own as well, but I brought some Calamity Disinfectant Spray for the other guys to use. I’m using the henchmen’s real names here as we NEVER use codenames off-duty. That was a sacred rule. Work stayed at work, as far as I was concerned. Only Number 1 and 2 knew my real name, so everyone just called me “Bob” when off duty.
We actually had a lot of fun! Kevin came back with three pitchers, which we finished off by the middle of the second frame. At the start of the third frame we needed more, so Dave put his arm around me and said, “Hey, let’s go check out that bartender. I think you’ll really get a kick out of him.”
He led me over to the bar and I and said, “Can I get three pitchers?” The bartender had his back to me and was cleaning some shotglasses. When he turned around, my jaw hit the floor. It was him! His nametag read “JD,” but there was no mistaking it. Diesel stood right in front of me! Even though I never took his mask off him when he was my prisoner, I’d know that jawline and those sparkling eyes anywhere. Come on, I'm not Lois Lane over here! I shot a surprised look at Dave, who gave a mischievous smirk. That sonnafa… I snapped out of my stupor when “JD” called over, “You OK, buddy? You look a little spaced out there.” He flashed a million-dollar smile. I could see why his tip jar was stuffed to the max.
“Yeah, I’m OK,” I said, still partially floored. “Just…uh… watching the news.” The mayor’s press conference from this afternoon was being rerun on the nightly news and it was at the point where Diesel was getting his medal.
“Yeah, I was watching that before,” JD said. He reached up and adjusted the volume so we could hear the mayor’s speech better. His uniform shirt was several sizes too small and looked like it was going to burst off him if he moved too much. And he milked that for everything it was worth. “That Diesel is quite a hero,” he said. “Saving the mayor all by himself like that.”
“Yeah, he is,” I stammered, collecting the pitchers. “Hellofa guy! Uh… anyway, gotta run. I’m up next!”
JD shot me a quizzical look and shrugged, but his eyes lit up when he saw the $50 I stuffed in his tip jar before speeding off back to the lane like a giggling schoolgirl. He watched after us for a second, then went back to his duties as a sloshed cougar lane rat stumbled up looking for her fifth cocktail of the evening. When we were a safe distance away, I turned on Dave. “You asshole!” I joked. “When did you know?”
“Pretty much as soon as I saw him up close in the gas room,” Dave said. “I bowl League on Tuesdays and that’s his shift. I never forget a face. So… what do you think we should do about that?” Dave lifted his shirt and revealed the Calamity Gun tucked in his waistband.
I grinned as only a supervillain can, but told him to lay off. “We’re off-duty tonight,” I said. “So we bowl. But tomorrow, we’re going to have some fun with Mr. Hero.”
----------------------------------------------
It was an easy matter to find Diesel’s car in the parking lot after we finished bowling. I slipped a tracer under the bumper, along with a few camera-nanites that would worm their way into Diesel’s apartment and give me visual and audio access whenever I wanted. Once the equipment was placed, Dave dropped us all off for the night.
I spent the night watching Diesel sleep on my vidscreen. Creeper Level: Edward Cullen, I know. But there was something about this hero that enraptured me. He was beautiful, yes, but that wasn’t it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on exactly what it was, but something was drawing me to him. The next morning he had to make a stop at the bank, so I grabbed a few henchmen and sped off in the Calamity Van, giddy with excitement.
It look less than two minutes for me and my henchmen to take the place over. The staff and customers knelt before me, their hands secured behind their backs with industrial-strength cable ties and their mouths sealed with several layers of duct tape. Printed on the tape was the phrase “I Got Taken Hostage by Dr. Calamity!” At the end of the line, glaring up at us with a mixture of anger and frustration, was JD.
Flash back to a few minutes ago:
When we burst in, I cackled maniacally and brandished the Disintegrator Ray. Number 1 immediately grabbed the security guard and relieved him of his handgun, while Numbers 6 and 15 lept over the counter. Number 47 stayed with me. “Quake with fear, puny citizens!” I said. “It is I, Dr. Calamity! Now everyone do as you are told and no one gets disintegrated!” I vaporized the water cooler for emphasis. “Hands up, if you don’t mind.”
Diesel was second in line for the teller window. I made sure to observe him carefully. Oh, the agony he must be feeling right now! Trapped in a situation that screamed for a superhero but unable to do a thing about it. With all the civilians around he couldn’t risk exposing his secret identity by powering up in front of them. The conflicting emotions deliciously played out on his face like a drive-in movie as he stood, trapped, with his hands raised above his head.
Number 1 had wasted no time in securing the guard with his own handcuffs, tapegagging him, cable tying his ankles, and depositing him face-first on the floor. The henchmen behind the counter started cleaning out the teller drawers while I corralled the staff and customers in the lobby area. I made them kneel before me in a straight line with their hands on their heads. The look of helplessness and frustration on Diesel’s face was priceless. “OK, one at a time my henchmen will go around and collect your valuables,” I said, walking back and forth and waving the Disintegrator Ray around. “And you’ll have to forgive me, but I will need to have you all restrained. Don’t worry, it’s standard protocol. For my safety and yours.”
Number 1 started with the manager, collecting her purse and jewelry. This was done mostly for the intimidation effect and not for the monetary value. I’m not the type to bring trinkets to a fence for pocket change, after all. I also made sure to return most things, especially wedding bands and things that clearly had sentimental value. And I never messed with their credit cards. These were regular people, not rich douchebags like the mayor. Just because you’re a bad guy doesn’t mean you have to be a dick!
Each hostage emptied their pockets with varying degrees of fear and anger. No one dared fight back, however, and soon the entire line of hostages was on their knees, wrists and ankles locked and mouths sealed with duct tape. Only JD remained unfettered.
I looked him over again, savoring the view. He wore cowboy boots and tight jeans with a prominent chew ring in the back left pocket. His oversized wallet was connected to his belt (complete with giant steerhead buckle) by a chain. He wore a “God Bless Texas” sleeveless T-shirt that was so tight it looked painted on him and a beat-up camouflage baseball cap on backwards. His chin had an alluring stubble. “OK, big boy,” I said. “Your turn.” I indicated for him to stand by waving the barrel of the Disintegrator Ray.
“If Diesel were here, he’d take all you assholes out,” he said defiantly, rising to his feet. “He’d kick your sorry asses all the way to prison!” When in hero mode, Diesel used Standard American pronunciation (they must have had a speech pathologist on staff at the Hero League), but his natural voice was a lilting Texas drawl that set my heart all aflutter.
“But he’s not here,” I taunted. “Is he? Do you see him?” I looked around in jest. “Maybe you have him in your pocket? Speaking of which, hand over the goods. My soaps start soon and I have to see if Irmagarde wakes up from her coma today.”
With a frustrated grimace, Diesel reached for his wallet. Able to stand it no longer, he stopped and lunged for the Disintegrator Ray with blinding speed. We tussled for a moment over the gun. He was powered down, but even without his super strength he was light years ahead of me in the might department, so I was actually worried… for about half a second. Number 1 ran up behind Diesel and jolted him with his cattle prod. The would-be hero convulsed and dropped to the floor.
“There’s always one,” I said, shaking my head. “Number 1,” I said, “make sure this one is restrained extra tightly.” I removed the big lug’s wallet and watched with glee as Number 1 positioned the twitching hero’s hands over the small of his back and cinched the cable ties to maximum tightness. Diesel groaned as they were fully secured. I kicked his cowboy-booted ankles together and Number 1 bound them with plastic ties, as well. After looking to me for approval, Number 1 used another set of thick plastic ties to connect Diesel’s feet and hands, pulling him into a painfully tight hogtie. Diesel grunted as his back was bent into a bow-shape by the constricting bands.
I patted his ass with my leather-gloved hand as I emptied his other pockets. “What a stud we’ve got in the bunch,” I said to Number 1. “If time wasn’t of the essence I’d say we take this one with us as a party favor.”
“Get your hands off me you sick bastard!” Diesel shouted, desperately trying to hide his erection against the floor while he postured. Not an easy task with those jeans he was wearing.
“Oh, you’re no fun,” I whined. “Number 1, silence him, please.” Number 1 slapped the end of the duct tape on Diesel’s cheek and wrapped it around his head eight or nine times. Had to make sure his pathetic blathering was properly negated. Number 1 smoothed out the tape and held Diesel’s head up for me to inspect.
“How do you like the new tape design, boss?” Number 1 asked. “Had it made up after the art museum heist. Thought you’d get a kick out of it.”
“I adore it, Number 1!” I said, patting him on the back. I indicated Diesel’s noticeable boner, straining against his jeans. “And it looks like this one is pretty excited about it, too! Hahahahaha!!!!”
Diesel grunted and protested through the tape gag, but I just removed his cap, ruffled his hair and laid him down on his stomach. Number 6 and 15 had laser-sawed through the cash dispensing machines and ATM and we were overloaded with money. “Done, boss,” Number 15 said.
I put the cap back on Diesel’s head. “Well, good citizens,” I said. “It looks like our time together is over and I shall be taking my leave.” I placed a small device on the floor. “This is a Disintegrator Bomb. In five minutes it will disintegrate only itself… as long as no one moves. If anyone tries to free themselves or call for help before that time, it will detonate and take this entire city block, and all of you, with it. So just sit tight, and this will all be a cool story for the grandkids someday.”
I cackled with glee as we ran out the door into the Calamity Van. I fired up the cloaking field and we sped off for the compound. The “Disintegrator Bomb” was actually no such thing, it was just a beeping and flashing contraption I used to enforce compliance. Worked like a charm, too. While in the getaway van, I immediately hacked the bank’s security cameras and trained them on the bound and squirming form of Diesel.
The look of shame and helplessness on his face was intoxicating. His need to protect his secret identity kept him more restrained than any ropes or chains I could put on his body. Seething with rage, he wriggled a little and mumbled through his gag. He could have easily popped out of the cable ties and gave chase, but dared not. Psychological bondage in addition to the physical! I love it! I watched him whimper and stew in his juices until the Disintegrator Bomb vaporized itself, right on schedule. He pretended to struggle some more and effortlessly snapped the ties while no one was looking. He unwound the duct tape over his mouth and scoffed when he saw the printed words, tossing the balled-up tape away. Once he had freed himself, he released the other hostages and the police were called.
“Did you see his face?” Number 1 hooted as we drove off. “Fucking priceless!”
“Yes, Number 1,” I said. “So powerful, and yet so powerless at the same time. It must be eating him up inside to just have to lie there and let us go. Unable to lift a finger to stop us!” I rifled through the loot bag and took out Diesel’s wallet. I reached in and pulled out the Driver’s License. “JD Dawson” I read. “Age 22. Lives at…”
“Well well,” I chuckled to myself. “I might just have to swing by tonight and pay Mr. Dawson another visit.”
Coming Soon: Part 8 – First Date
When we got to the bowling alley around 8 that night, the mayor had been all over the news all day. He had given a press conference about his rescue and gave Diesel a medal for heroism. The other members of the Hero League were in attendance for the photo op and you could tell they were gritting their teeth and forcing smiles in support of their Junior Colleague. Their Junior Colleague who showed them all up by saving the mayor alone while they sat on their spandex-covered butts. Some of the talking heads had already picked up on that. Beginning to see why I let them escape? I thought you would.
I had set the Image Inducer to “Completely Average Redneck,” as I figured it wouldn’t stand out in a bowling alley. You wouldn’t think it, but bowling was actually quite difficult for someone like me. When you’re a master of physics, you know exactly how to spin the ball for perfect positioning and exactly how hard to roll for perfect momentum. It was the same with tennis. I had to purposely hold back to not look like a total douchebag.
There were five of us in total, so we piled in Number 1 (Dave)’s SUV. When we got there I scouted the ball rack and gave Kevin (Number 2) my bank card to buy beer while Dave rented the lane. Of course I had my own shoes! No way I’m letting those foul communal things anywhere near me. Dave had his own as well, but I brought some Calamity Disinfectant Spray for the other guys to use. I’m using the henchmen’s real names here as we NEVER use codenames off-duty. That was a sacred rule. Work stayed at work, as far as I was concerned. Only Number 1 and 2 knew my real name, so everyone just called me “Bob” when off duty.
We actually had a lot of fun! Kevin came back with three pitchers, which we finished off by the middle of the second frame. At the start of the third frame we needed more, so Dave put his arm around me and said, “Hey, let’s go check out that bartender. I think you’ll really get a kick out of him.”
He led me over to the bar and I and said, “Can I get three pitchers?” The bartender had his back to me and was cleaning some shotglasses. When he turned around, my jaw hit the floor. It was him! His nametag read “JD,” but there was no mistaking it. Diesel stood right in front of me! Even though I never took his mask off him when he was my prisoner, I’d know that jawline and those sparkling eyes anywhere. Come on, I'm not Lois Lane over here! I shot a surprised look at Dave, who gave a mischievous smirk. That sonnafa… I snapped out of my stupor when “JD” called over, “You OK, buddy? You look a little spaced out there.” He flashed a million-dollar smile. I could see why his tip jar was stuffed to the max.
“Yeah, I’m OK,” I said, still partially floored. “Just…uh… watching the news.” The mayor’s press conference from this afternoon was being rerun on the nightly news and it was at the point where Diesel was getting his medal.
“Yeah, I was watching that before,” JD said. He reached up and adjusted the volume so we could hear the mayor’s speech better. His uniform shirt was several sizes too small and looked like it was going to burst off him if he moved too much. And he milked that for everything it was worth. “That Diesel is quite a hero,” he said. “Saving the mayor all by himself like that.”
“Yeah, he is,” I stammered, collecting the pitchers. “Hellofa guy! Uh… anyway, gotta run. I’m up next!”
JD shot me a quizzical look and shrugged, but his eyes lit up when he saw the $50 I stuffed in his tip jar before speeding off back to the lane like a giggling schoolgirl. He watched after us for a second, then went back to his duties as a sloshed cougar lane rat stumbled up looking for her fifth cocktail of the evening. When we were a safe distance away, I turned on Dave. “You asshole!” I joked. “When did you know?”
“Pretty much as soon as I saw him up close in the gas room,” Dave said. “I bowl League on Tuesdays and that’s his shift. I never forget a face. So… what do you think we should do about that?” Dave lifted his shirt and revealed the Calamity Gun tucked in his waistband.
I grinned as only a supervillain can, but told him to lay off. “We’re off-duty tonight,” I said. “So we bowl. But tomorrow, we’re going to have some fun with Mr. Hero.”
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It was an easy matter to find Diesel’s car in the parking lot after we finished bowling. I slipped a tracer under the bumper, along with a few camera-nanites that would worm their way into Diesel’s apartment and give me visual and audio access whenever I wanted. Once the equipment was placed, Dave dropped us all off for the night.
I spent the night watching Diesel sleep on my vidscreen. Creeper Level: Edward Cullen, I know. But there was something about this hero that enraptured me. He was beautiful, yes, but that wasn’t it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on exactly what it was, but something was drawing me to him. The next morning he had to make a stop at the bank, so I grabbed a few henchmen and sped off in the Calamity Van, giddy with excitement.
It look less than two minutes for me and my henchmen to take the place over. The staff and customers knelt before me, their hands secured behind their backs with industrial-strength cable ties and their mouths sealed with several layers of duct tape. Printed on the tape was the phrase “I Got Taken Hostage by Dr. Calamity!” At the end of the line, glaring up at us with a mixture of anger and frustration, was JD.
Flash back to a few minutes ago:
When we burst in, I cackled maniacally and brandished the Disintegrator Ray. Number 1 immediately grabbed the security guard and relieved him of his handgun, while Numbers 6 and 15 lept over the counter. Number 47 stayed with me. “Quake with fear, puny citizens!” I said. “It is I, Dr. Calamity! Now everyone do as you are told and no one gets disintegrated!” I vaporized the water cooler for emphasis. “Hands up, if you don’t mind.”
Diesel was second in line for the teller window. I made sure to observe him carefully. Oh, the agony he must be feeling right now! Trapped in a situation that screamed for a superhero but unable to do a thing about it. With all the civilians around he couldn’t risk exposing his secret identity by powering up in front of them. The conflicting emotions deliciously played out on his face like a drive-in movie as he stood, trapped, with his hands raised above his head.
Number 1 had wasted no time in securing the guard with his own handcuffs, tapegagging him, cable tying his ankles, and depositing him face-first on the floor. The henchmen behind the counter started cleaning out the teller drawers while I corralled the staff and customers in the lobby area. I made them kneel before me in a straight line with their hands on their heads. The look of helplessness and frustration on Diesel’s face was priceless. “OK, one at a time my henchmen will go around and collect your valuables,” I said, walking back and forth and waving the Disintegrator Ray around. “And you’ll have to forgive me, but I will need to have you all restrained. Don’t worry, it’s standard protocol. For my safety and yours.”
Number 1 started with the manager, collecting her purse and jewelry. This was done mostly for the intimidation effect and not for the monetary value. I’m not the type to bring trinkets to a fence for pocket change, after all. I also made sure to return most things, especially wedding bands and things that clearly had sentimental value. And I never messed with their credit cards. These were regular people, not rich douchebags like the mayor. Just because you’re a bad guy doesn’t mean you have to be a dick!
Each hostage emptied their pockets with varying degrees of fear and anger. No one dared fight back, however, and soon the entire line of hostages was on their knees, wrists and ankles locked and mouths sealed with duct tape. Only JD remained unfettered.
I looked him over again, savoring the view. He wore cowboy boots and tight jeans with a prominent chew ring in the back left pocket. His oversized wallet was connected to his belt (complete with giant steerhead buckle) by a chain. He wore a “God Bless Texas” sleeveless T-shirt that was so tight it looked painted on him and a beat-up camouflage baseball cap on backwards. His chin had an alluring stubble. “OK, big boy,” I said. “Your turn.” I indicated for him to stand by waving the barrel of the Disintegrator Ray.
“If Diesel were here, he’d take all you assholes out,” he said defiantly, rising to his feet. “He’d kick your sorry asses all the way to prison!” When in hero mode, Diesel used Standard American pronunciation (they must have had a speech pathologist on staff at the Hero League), but his natural voice was a lilting Texas drawl that set my heart all aflutter.
“But he’s not here,” I taunted. “Is he? Do you see him?” I looked around in jest. “Maybe you have him in your pocket? Speaking of which, hand over the goods. My soaps start soon and I have to see if Irmagarde wakes up from her coma today.”
With a frustrated grimace, Diesel reached for his wallet. Able to stand it no longer, he stopped and lunged for the Disintegrator Ray with blinding speed. We tussled for a moment over the gun. He was powered down, but even without his super strength he was light years ahead of me in the might department, so I was actually worried… for about half a second. Number 1 ran up behind Diesel and jolted him with his cattle prod. The would-be hero convulsed and dropped to the floor.
“There’s always one,” I said, shaking my head. “Number 1,” I said, “make sure this one is restrained extra tightly.” I removed the big lug’s wallet and watched with glee as Number 1 positioned the twitching hero’s hands over the small of his back and cinched the cable ties to maximum tightness. Diesel groaned as they were fully secured. I kicked his cowboy-booted ankles together and Number 1 bound them with plastic ties, as well. After looking to me for approval, Number 1 used another set of thick plastic ties to connect Diesel’s feet and hands, pulling him into a painfully tight hogtie. Diesel grunted as his back was bent into a bow-shape by the constricting bands.
I patted his ass with my leather-gloved hand as I emptied his other pockets. “What a stud we’ve got in the bunch,” I said to Number 1. “If time wasn’t of the essence I’d say we take this one with us as a party favor.”
“Get your hands off me you sick bastard!” Diesel shouted, desperately trying to hide his erection against the floor while he postured. Not an easy task with those jeans he was wearing.
“Oh, you’re no fun,” I whined. “Number 1, silence him, please.” Number 1 slapped the end of the duct tape on Diesel’s cheek and wrapped it around his head eight or nine times. Had to make sure his pathetic blathering was properly negated. Number 1 smoothed out the tape and held Diesel’s head up for me to inspect.
“How do you like the new tape design, boss?” Number 1 asked. “Had it made up after the art museum heist. Thought you’d get a kick out of it.”
“I adore it, Number 1!” I said, patting him on the back. I indicated Diesel’s noticeable boner, straining against his jeans. “And it looks like this one is pretty excited about it, too! Hahahahaha!!!!”
Diesel grunted and protested through the tape gag, but I just removed his cap, ruffled his hair and laid him down on his stomach. Number 6 and 15 had laser-sawed through the cash dispensing machines and ATM and we were overloaded with money. “Done, boss,” Number 15 said.
I put the cap back on Diesel’s head. “Well, good citizens,” I said. “It looks like our time together is over and I shall be taking my leave.” I placed a small device on the floor. “This is a Disintegrator Bomb. In five minutes it will disintegrate only itself… as long as no one moves. If anyone tries to free themselves or call for help before that time, it will detonate and take this entire city block, and all of you, with it. So just sit tight, and this will all be a cool story for the grandkids someday.”
I cackled with glee as we ran out the door into the Calamity Van. I fired up the cloaking field and we sped off for the compound. The “Disintegrator Bomb” was actually no such thing, it was just a beeping and flashing contraption I used to enforce compliance. Worked like a charm, too. While in the getaway van, I immediately hacked the bank’s security cameras and trained them on the bound and squirming form of Diesel.
The look of shame and helplessness on his face was intoxicating. His need to protect his secret identity kept him more restrained than any ropes or chains I could put on his body. Seething with rage, he wriggled a little and mumbled through his gag. He could have easily popped out of the cable ties and gave chase, but dared not. Psychological bondage in addition to the physical! I love it! I watched him whimper and stew in his juices until the Disintegrator Bomb vaporized itself, right on schedule. He pretended to struggle some more and effortlessly snapped the ties while no one was looking. He unwound the duct tape over his mouth and scoffed when he saw the printed words, tossing the balled-up tape away. Once he had freed himself, he released the other hostages and the police were called.
“Did you see his face?” Number 1 hooted as we drove off. “Fucking priceless!”
“Yes, Number 1,” I said. “So powerful, and yet so powerless at the same time. It must be eating him up inside to just have to lie there and let us go. Unable to lift a finger to stop us!” I rifled through the loot bag and took out Diesel’s wallet. I reached in and pulled out the Driver’s License. “JD Dawson” I read. “Age 22. Lives at…”
“Well well,” I chuckled to myself. “I might just have to swing by tonight and pay Mr. Dawson another visit.”
Coming Soon: Part 8 – First Date
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KidnappedCowboy
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 976
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: USA
- Contact:
What a great update! And I am so glad Dr. Calamity is an ethical, if twisted, supervillain. Makes him sexier!Number 1 started with the manager, collecting her purse and jewelry. This was done mostly for the intimidation effect and not for the monetary value. I’m not the type to bring trinkets to a fence for pocket change, after all. I also made sure to return most things, especially wedding bands and things that clearly had sentimental value. And I never messed with their credit cards. These were regular people, not rich douchebags like the mayor. Just because you’re a bad guy doesn’t mean you have to be a dick!
JD Dawson...What a Woof!
Well Done, [mention]wataru14[/mention]
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privateandrews
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 175
- Joined: 4 years ago
great chapter , like how the fixation is growing stronger for the villan and the hunky super hero. the hog tie and gagging were a delight . so frustrating for the hero... looking forward to how this story develops.
Ahhhhhhhhh!
This was an amazing new chapter! Dr. Calamity is again hilarious and a suprisingly considerate supervillain, and I love it!
And big muscular JD is a hunk and a half who's pushing all the right buttons. Big muscles? Texas drawl? Turned on by bondage? Yay to all three! Wish I could be Doctor Calamity and take him for a spin
This was an amazing new chapter! Dr. Calamity is again hilarious and a suprisingly considerate supervillain, and I love it!
And big muscular JD is a hunk and a half who's pushing all the right buttons. Big muscles? Texas drawl? Turned on by bondage? Yay to all three! Wish I could be Doctor Calamity and take him for a spin
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george_bound
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 330
- Joined: 4 years ago
- Location: Ontario, Canada
Oh... my... frick... a good bank heist is on the top of my favourites list and you didn't disappoint! Heavy duty cable ties binding both wrists and ankles (as opposed to weak thin ties) is sooo hot along with wraparound tape gags on top of that! You'll never see that treatment on a TV heist scene unfortunately.
And Diesel as JD, a hot country hick, is priceless. Love how his civilian persona is discovered and how he's forced to endure the heist as just another hostage, albeit tightly hogtied with the security cameras trained on him in case he try anything "stupid".
This story is too much! Can't wait for the first date
And Diesel as JD, a hot country hick, is priceless. Love how his civilian persona is discovered and how he's forced to endure the heist as just another hostage, albeit tightly hogtied with the security cameras trained on him in case he try anything "stupid".
This story is too much! Can't wait for the first date
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DeeperThanRed
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 964
- Joined: 6 years ago
Dr. Calamity was a blast in his bowling night out. Considerate and friendly but still pompous enough to see why he's a villain. Though, with how corrupt the city and heroes act like, he's not even the worst guy around.
As for Diesel, (or should I say JD?), I'm surprised by how deep his character became when I was expecting him to be a fun but one-note parody. Kudos for actually introducing interesting internal conflict for him. Plus, his civilian persona is a cutie.
As for Diesel, (or should I say JD?), I'm surprised by how deep his character became when I was expecting him to be a fun but one-note parody. Kudos for actually introducing interesting internal conflict for him. Plus, his civilian persona is a cutie.
25-year-old bondage enthusiast who likes cute guys, underwear, and bondage, preferably together.
You can reach my list of written work here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
You can reach my list of written work here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
Part 8 – First Date
Something was wrong with me. I knew it. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew Diesel was at the heart of it. He’s all I could think about all day. The annual Villain’s Convention was a day away and I had barely given it a thought – even after I had campaigned so hard to host after the HQ renovations. All I did was watch Diesel on my nano-cams. What was so special about him? He was no different than the nameless horde of heroes I’ve crushed in my time, right? But then they didn’t have the reactions he did in the Testing Chamber… Someone who liked being restrained as much as I liked doing it could make for a fulfilling “partnership.”
That’s it, then. It’s decided. “I’m going to apply to the Guild to be declared Diesel’s Arch-Nemesis,” I said out loud to myself, cementing my decision. It would certainly help his career, to be sure. Getting tapped by an A-List baddie like me would really make his stock rise in the Hero Community. It was certainly an unorthodox decision, but since when have I ever been one for convention? Convention…? Convention! Shit!!!
The urgency of tomorrow night’s gala event hit me like one of Diesel’s punches. I had 24 hours to get ready! And everything had to be perfect or I’d never hear the end of it from Murdertron! I did a base-wide communication to the henchmen.
“Attention all staff,” I said into the mic. “Tomorrow night we will be hosting the annual Villain’s Convention and the base must be prepared for high-profile guests. I hereby order all existing work assignments put on pause. All staff must devote their attention to maintenance and decoration for the next 24 hours. Let’s make this one to remember, everybody! I’m counting on you!”
I ended the transmission and dialed up a friend on the vidcam. Queer Eye was my old roommate at Villain Academy. He was a bright-pink cyclopean monstrosity, but had a mean eye (pun intended) for fashion and design. And he was one hell of an ultimate frisbee player. You’d think his lack of depth perception would hinder him, but the man was a master! We had worked together on a few crime sprees over the years and he owed me a favor, so I arranged for him to come by tomorrow morning and oversee (ha!) the arrangements. It took some doing to get him out of bed before noon, but I managed somehow. That left the rest of my day free. But I wasn’t going to be idle. I had a few special surprises in store for Diesel this evening.
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“Help! Help!” the totally unassuming and not-at-all suspicious elderly lady cried. “Some ruffian has stolen my purse!”
Diesel raced down the street and appeared at her side. “Are you hurt, ma’am?” he asked.
“No, thank heavens,” she said. “But I was on my way home from the pharmacy and some horrible delinquent grabbed my purse and ran down the alley! My medication is in there!”
“Fear not, good woman,” Diesel said. “I’ll get it back for you!”
“Oh, bless you,” she said. “But be careful. He looked mean and I think I smelled marijuana on him!” She crossed herself and kissed her knuckle.
“I’ll handle it,” Diesel said. “Don’t worry. A purse-snatcher is no match for me. No matter what he’s hopped up on!” And he ran off down the alley.
The thug stood at the end of the alley near a dumpster, looking for an escape route over the fence and clutching the purse. Totally oblivious to the world around him. “I don’t think that belongs to you,” Diesel said, stepping out of the shadows. “It doesn’t match your outfit.”
The thug pulled a knife from his pocket. “Well red matches yours real good,” he said. “I’m gonna show this town even superheroes can bleed.” He charged at Diesel, and jabbed at his chest with the knife. Diesel yawned sarcastically as the blade harmlessly bent against his massive pecs.
“Good hit,” he said. “Now it’s my turn.” Diesel did a quick jab and the thief went down with a sickening crunch, dropping the solen purse. “No one terrorizes this city while Diesel is around!” he said as the old lady hobbled up behind him.
“Here you go, ma’am,” he said, handing the purse back to the woman.
“Thank you! Bless you!” she said, kissing his cheek and making him blush. “Oh dear, my arthritis is acting up. Can you open it for me? My hands do ache so.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Diesel said. As soon as he opened the purse, Diesel was hit with a blast of green knockout gas. “What? You… tricked… me…” and he slumped to the ground.
I turned off the hologram projector and the illusionary thug vanished. I had been doing a lot of work with “hard-light” recently and this test run of the hardware went perfectly. Exciting the photons enough actually allowed for tactile holograms as well. I’d have to try them out on someone with an IQ of higher than 50 before I added it to the repertoire full-time, though.
I pulled of my kerchief and wig and looked down at the incapacitated form of Diesel lying in the alley at my feet. His eyes fluttered and his chest rose and fell with his sleeping breaths. Such a beauty. I used a repulsor field to lift him into the nearby Calamity Van and headed home with my catch.
Diesel awoke an hour later, surrounded by darkness. He couldn’t see a thing due to the thick black bag over his head. He could feel that the accursed power-dampening collar was affixed to his neck again, though. He tried to stand up, but couldn’t. As his head cleared, he realized that he was tied to a chair. His hands were bound together behind his back with a special polymer rope of my design. Stronger than spider silk and held knots like a dream. His hands were not, however, behind the back of the chair. They were pressed between him and the seatback. As he felt around with his fingers, he realized that his clothing was different. He still felt his supersuit against his skin, but over that he was wearing… some sort of jacket?
His chest and biceps were roped tightly several times around, but his feet were untethered and he was not secured to the chair in any way. He tried to stand again, but still couldn’t. Some kind of gravity field kept him firmly seated. He could tell his mask was still on under the bag and his mouth was gagged with surgical tape. Diesel felt a flush of excitement down below as he contemplated his situation and enjoyed his restraint. Suddenly, the door opened and a set of booted footsteps was heard. The steps came to a stop about five feet from him and then Diesel heard the sound of a chair being pulled out.
Diesel grunted and squirmed, as was expected, but I paid it no mind as I tore the bag off his head. After seeing my handsome grinning face, Diesel contorted his features in anger. He flared his nostrils and huffed, but stopped immediately when he got a look at the room around him.
He was in one of The Chambers, that much was clear, but Diesel was very confused at the décor. He found himself seated in an elegant dining room chair at a fancy table set for two. And you know it was a classy joint because they had three forks at each plate. A holographic bay window showing the Greek Islands was projected on the wall and there was a faint hint of violin music in the air. He looked down and saw he was wearing a fancy dinner jacket over his supersuit.
“Hungry, Mr. Diesel?” I said, looking at the menu. “With a metabolism like yours you must need to eat constantly.” He just stared at me dumbfounded. “Order whatever you want. I know the chef personally.” I set a menu on the table in front of him, open to entrees. Diesel knocked it over with his nose and started mmpppggghhhing over and over.
“Oh, your gag!” I said. “Of course! How rude of me! Here…” I removed the tape from his mouth and stuffed it in the pocket of my labcoat. “There, that’s better. Do you have a favorite wine? If not, I’ll just order my usual.”
“What in the hell is going on here?” Diesel said, very confused. “Is this some kind of crazy attempt to poison me? What are you up to?”
“Well, my goal for tonight was a little dinner, a little dancing, and maybe and after-meal nightcap. If you know what I mean,” I said. “I assure you this is no trick. I am quite… taken with you… and wanted us to spend some alone time together. And I figured the only way to do that was to… well… take you.”
Diesel thought about my words and calmed down. There’s the first hurdle cleared, at least. Number 1 came in dressed as a waiter and poured the wine into both of our glasses. I had to hold Diesel’s to his lips so he could drink. “I know this would be easier if your hands were untied,” I said. “But I quite like you this way. And I think you like being this way, as well.”
“All right,” Diesel said. “I’ll play your game, Dr. Calamity.” He looked over the menu and said to Number 1, “I’ll have the lobster.”
Number 1 gave me a knowing smile as he left to get the food. “And he orders the most expensive thing on the menu,” I thought. “I know what THAT usually leads to!”
The conversation wasn’t as awkward as you might think. Well, it was at first. But once Diesel realized I wasn’t trying to trick him again he relaxed significantly. I had to feed him, of course, but there’s something deeply erotic about that, if you think about it. Something we both picked up on, I might add. We talked about our pasts (careful on both sides to not give too many specific details) and our present careers. Then we talked about life, philosophy, video games… I was my usual sophisticated, charming self, and had him laughing more than once. As for him, there was an earnest simplicity to him that I found refreshing. He was pure of spirit and intent, and that’s something you don’t see much, especially with heroes. Many of them just wanted the glory and limelight. They were excruciatingly full of themselves. But not Diesel. He was what he was because he genuinely wanted to help people.
How could you not fall in love with that?
At that moment I realized I had reached a crossroads. This was the man who would soon become my nemesis. My arch-foe. A rivalry that would ultimately end in one of our destructions. There was no other way. I couldn’t get too close…
You know what? Fuck that! Since when do villains follow rules? Diesel was a hero, but he was MY hero. We both had dreams to realize and I think, with my genius and his brawn, we had a chance to help each other do just that.
After dessert was done, I wiped Diesel’s mouth with his napkin. He smiled at me awkwardly. I raised the volume of the music and stood up, walking over to him.
“Can I have this dance?” I asked, my heart racing. God, it was like Junior Prom all over again!
“You’d have to remove the gravity field,” Diesel joked. “…But… I think I’d like that.”
With a big goofy grin I turned off the field and helped Diesel to his feet. I pressed against his rock-hard bound body with my arms around him as we swayed slowly to the music. I was lost in another world when I put my head on his shoulder.
Number 1 came in to clear the table and smiled, shaking his head. He pointed at his watch as the song ended. “Time to wrap things up, boss,” he said. “Big day tomorrow.”
“Yes, Number 1, it is,” I said. “But, the night is not over completely. Mr. Diesel, the cells are cold and uncomfortable, as you well know. Perhaps you would… rather spend the night in my bedchamber?”
Diesel stood a moment in thought. “Do I have a choice?” he asked.
I was actually hurt. “Of course you do!” I said. “That is one line I won’t cross. You can refuse if you want…” I awkwardly shifted my weight and wrung my hands. “But I’m hoping that you don’t.”
“In that case,” Diesel said, lowering his voice into a sultry whisper. “I would enjoy that very much.”
I was over the moon! “Number 1,” I said. “We are not to be disturbed for anything less than an Omega-level catastrophe until morning. I completely trust you to handle this place while I am… indisposed.” Number 1 saluted and gave me a “get ‘em, tiger!” look behind Diesel’s back as I walked the big man out of the room.
“You’re not going to untie me, are you?” Diesel asked.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I said smugly. “Why, do you want me to?”
“Not a chance!” Diesel said, giving me a “hot-guy half-smile” that made me weak in the knees. I opened the door to my bedchamber and ushered Diesel inside, closing the door tightly behind us.
Coming Soon: Part 9 – The Villains’ Convention
Something was wrong with me. I knew it. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew Diesel was at the heart of it. He’s all I could think about all day. The annual Villain’s Convention was a day away and I had barely given it a thought – even after I had campaigned so hard to host after the HQ renovations. All I did was watch Diesel on my nano-cams. What was so special about him? He was no different than the nameless horde of heroes I’ve crushed in my time, right? But then they didn’t have the reactions he did in the Testing Chamber… Someone who liked being restrained as much as I liked doing it could make for a fulfilling “partnership.”
That’s it, then. It’s decided. “I’m going to apply to the Guild to be declared Diesel’s Arch-Nemesis,” I said out loud to myself, cementing my decision. It would certainly help his career, to be sure. Getting tapped by an A-List baddie like me would really make his stock rise in the Hero Community. It was certainly an unorthodox decision, but since when have I ever been one for convention? Convention…? Convention! Shit!!!
The urgency of tomorrow night’s gala event hit me like one of Diesel’s punches. I had 24 hours to get ready! And everything had to be perfect or I’d never hear the end of it from Murdertron! I did a base-wide communication to the henchmen.
“Attention all staff,” I said into the mic. “Tomorrow night we will be hosting the annual Villain’s Convention and the base must be prepared for high-profile guests. I hereby order all existing work assignments put on pause. All staff must devote their attention to maintenance and decoration for the next 24 hours. Let’s make this one to remember, everybody! I’m counting on you!”
I ended the transmission and dialed up a friend on the vidcam. Queer Eye was my old roommate at Villain Academy. He was a bright-pink cyclopean monstrosity, but had a mean eye (pun intended) for fashion and design. And he was one hell of an ultimate frisbee player. You’d think his lack of depth perception would hinder him, but the man was a master! We had worked together on a few crime sprees over the years and he owed me a favor, so I arranged for him to come by tomorrow morning and oversee (ha!) the arrangements. It took some doing to get him out of bed before noon, but I managed somehow. That left the rest of my day free. But I wasn’t going to be idle. I had a few special surprises in store for Diesel this evening.
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“Help! Help!” the totally unassuming and not-at-all suspicious elderly lady cried. “Some ruffian has stolen my purse!”
Diesel raced down the street and appeared at her side. “Are you hurt, ma’am?” he asked.
“No, thank heavens,” she said. “But I was on my way home from the pharmacy and some horrible delinquent grabbed my purse and ran down the alley! My medication is in there!”
“Fear not, good woman,” Diesel said. “I’ll get it back for you!”
“Oh, bless you,” she said. “But be careful. He looked mean and I think I smelled marijuana on him!” She crossed herself and kissed her knuckle.
“I’ll handle it,” Diesel said. “Don’t worry. A purse-snatcher is no match for me. No matter what he’s hopped up on!” And he ran off down the alley.
The thug stood at the end of the alley near a dumpster, looking for an escape route over the fence and clutching the purse. Totally oblivious to the world around him. “I don’t think that belongs to you,” Diesel said, stepping out of the shadows. “It doesn’t match your outfit.”
The thug pulled a knife from his pocket. “Well red matches yours real good,” he said. “I’m gonna show this town even superheroes can bleed.” He charged at Diesel, and jabbed at his chest with the knife. Diesel yawned sarcastically as the blade harmlessly bent against his massive pecs.
“Good hit,” he said. “Now it’s my turn.” Diesel did a quick jab and the thief went down with a sickening crunch, dropping the solen purse. “No one terrorizes this city while Diesel is around!” he said as the old lady hobbled up behind him.
“Here you go, ma’am,” he said, handing the purse back to the woman.
“Thank you! Bless you!” she said, kissing his cheek and making him blush. “Oh dear, my arthritis is acting up. Can you open it for me? My hands do ache so.”
“Of course, ma’am,” Diesel said. As soon as he opened the purse, Diesel was hit with a blast of green knockout gas. “What? You… tricked… me…” and he slumped to the ground.
I turned off the hologram projector and the illusionary thug vanished. I had been doing a lot of work with “hard-light” recently and this test run of the hardware went perfectly. Exciting the photons enough actually allowed for tactile holograms as well. I’d have to try them out on someone with an IQ of higher than 50 before I added it to the repertoire full-time, though.
I pulled of my kerchief and wig and looked down at the incapacitated form of Diesel lying in the alley at my feet. His eyes fluttered and his chest rose and fell with his sleeping breaths. Such a beauty. I used a repulsor field to lift him into the nearby Calamity Van and headed home with my catch.
Diesel awoke an hour later, surrounded by darkness. He couldn’t see a thing due to the thick black bag over his head. He could feel that the accursed power-dampening collar was affixed to his neck again, though. He tried to stand up, but couldn’t. As his head cleared, he realized that he was tied to a chair. His hands were bound together behind his back with a special polymer rope of my design. Stronger than spider silk and held knots like a dream. His hands were not, however, behind the back of the chair. They were pressed between him and the seatback. As he felt around with his fingers, he realized that his clothing was different. He still felt his supersuit against his skin, but over that he was wearing… some sort of jacket?
His chest and biceps were roped tightly several times around, but his feet were untethered and he was not secured to the chair in any way. He tried to stand again, but still couldn’t. Some kind of gravity field kept him firmly seated. He could tell his mask was still on under the bag and his mouth was gagged with surgical tape. Diesel felt a flush of excitement down below as he contemplated his situation and enjoyed his restraint. Suddenly, the door opened and a set of booted footsteps was heard. The steps came to a stop about five feet from him and then Diesel heard the sound of a chair being pulled out.
Diesel grunted and squirmed, as was expected, but I paid it no mind as I tore the bag off his head. After seeing my handsome grinning face, Diesel contorted his features in anger. He flared his nostrils and huffed, but stopped immediately when he got a look at the room around him.
He was in one of The Chambers, that much was clear, but Diesel was very confused at the décor. He found himself seated in an elegant dining room chair at a fancy table set for two. And you know it was a classy joint because they had three forks at each plate. A holographic bay window showing the Greek Islands was projected on the wall and there was a faint hint of violin music in the air. He looked down and saw he was wearing a fancy dinner jacket over his supersuit.
“Hungry, Mr. Diesel?” I said, looking at the menu. “With a metabolism like yours you must need to eat constantly.” He just stared at me dumbfounded. “Order whatever you want. I know the chef personally.” I set a menu on the table in front of him, open to entrees. Diesel knocked it over with his nose and started mmpppggghhhing over and over.
“Oh, your gag!” I said. “Of course! How rude of me! Here…” I removed the tape from his mouth and stuffed it in the pocket of my labcoat. “There, that’s better. Do you have a favorite wine? If not, I’ll just order my usual.”
“What in the hell is going on here?” Diesel said, very confused. “Is this some kind of crazy attempt to poison me? What are you up to?”
“Well, my goal for tonight was a little dinner, a little dancing, and maybe and after-meal nightcap. If you know what I mean,” I said. “I assure you this is no trick. I am quite… taken with you… and wanted us to spend some alone time together. And I figured the only way to do that was to… well… take you.”
Diesel thought about my words and calmed down. There’s the first hurdle cleared, at least. Number 1 came in dressed as a waiter and poured the wine into both of our glasses. I had to hold Diesel’s to his lips so he could drink. “I know this would be easier if your hands were untied,” I said. “But I quite like you this way. And I think you like being this way, as well.”
“All right,” Diesel said. “I’ll play your game, Dr. Calamity.” He looked over the menu and said to Number 1, “I’ll have the lobster.”
Number 1 gave me a knowing smile as he left to get the food. “And he orders the most expensive thing on the menu,” I thought. “I know what THAT usually leads to!”
The conversation wasn’t as awkward as you might think. Well, it was at first. But once Diesel realized I wasn’t trying to trick him again he relaxed significantly. I had to feed him, of course, but there’s something deeply erotic about that, if you think about it. Something we both picked up on, I might add. We talked about our pasts (careful on both sides to not give too many specific details) and our present careers. Then we talked about life, philosophy, video games… I was my usual sophisticated, charming self, and had him laughing more than once. As for him, there was an earnest simplicity to him that I found refreshing. He was pure of spirit and intent, and that’s something you don’t see much, especially with heroes. Many of them just wanted the glory and limelight. They were excruciatingly full of themselves. But not Diesel. He was what he was because he genuinely wanted to help people.
How could you not fall in love with that?
At that moment I realized I had reached a crossroads. This was the man who would soon become my nemesis. My arch-foe. A rivalry that would ultimately end in one of our destructions. There was no other way. I couldn’t get too close…
You know what? Fuck that! Since when do villains follow rules? Diesel was a hero, but he was MY hero. We both had dreams to realize and I think, with my genius and his brawn, we had a chance to help each other do just that.
After dessert was done, I wiped Diesel’s mouth with his napkin. He smiled at me awkwardly. I raised the volume of the music and stood up, walking over to him.
“Can I have this dance?” I asked, my heart racing. God, it was like Junior Prom all over again!
“You’d have to remove the gravity field,” Diesel joked. “…But… I think I’d like that.”
With a big goofy grin I turned off the field and helped Diesel to his feet. I pressed against his rock-hard bound body with my arms around him as we swayed slowly to the music. I was lost in another world when I put my head on his shoulder.
Number 1 came in to clear the table and smiled, shaking his head. He pointed at his watch as the song ended. “Time to wrap things up, boss,” he said. “Big day tomorrow.”
“Yes, Number 1, it is,” I said. “But, the night is not over completely. Mr. Diesel, the cells are cold and uncomfortable, as you well know. Perhaps you would… rather spend the night in my bedchamber?”
Diesel stood a moment in thought. “Do I have a choice?” he asked.
I was actually hurt. “Of course you do!” I said. “That is one line I won’t cross. You can refuse if you want…” I awkwardly shifted my weight and wrung my hands. “But I’m hoping that you don’t.”
“In that case,” Diesel said, lowering his voice into a sultry whisper. “I would enjoy that very much.”
I was over the moon! “Number 1,” I said. “We are not to be disturbed for anything less than an Omega-level catastrophe until morning. I completely trust you to handle this place while I am… indisposed.” Number 1 saluted and gave me a “get ‘em, tiger!” look behind Diesel’s back as I walked the big man out of the room.
“You’re not going to untie me, are you?” Diesel asked.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” I said smugly. “Why, do you want me to?”
“Not a chance!” Diesel said, giving me a “hot-guy half-smile” that made me weak in the knees. I opened the door to my bedchamber and ushered Diesel inside, closing the door tightly behind us.
Coming Soon: Part 9 – The Villains’ Convention
Awwwwww.... I'm loving this budding romance - the Doctor's good taste, and I'm still swooning over the "hot guy half smile!"
I wonder what the Villain's Convention will do to this new relationship. I hope Diesel is there to stay for the duration - preferably tied and gagged!
I wonder what the Villain's Convention will do to this new relationship. I hope Diesel is there to stay for the duration - preferably tied and gagged!
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DeeperThanRed
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I thought the Villains' Convention was an off-handed joke but it turned out to be a foreshadowing for a legit plot point. 
Seriously though, the enemies-to-lovers dynamic in this chapter was soooo good. I was practically giggling while reading the date between them. It's great how Calamity is respectful of Diesel's boundaries even after kidnapping him. I wonder how the lovebirds will spend the convention...
Seriously though, the enemies-to-lovers dynamic in this chapter was soooo good. I was practically giggling while reading the date between them. It's great how Calamity is respectful of Diesel's boundaries even after kidnapping him. I wonder how the lovebirds will spend the convention...
25-year-old bondage enthusiast who likes cute guys, underwear, and bondage, preferably together.
You can reach my list of written work here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
You can reach my list of written work here: https://www.tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=38808#p38808
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KidnappedCowboy
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First class installment, [mention]wataru14[/mention]
Love the little touches -- for instance, the Calamity Van. And the knock out gas in a purse or some other object is one favorite ploys to kidnap a man.
Now, this was an interesting bit:
Will Deisel find himself in distress from Murdertron?
Love the little touches -- for instance, the Calamity Van. And the knock out gas in a purse or some other object is one favorite ploys to kidnap a man.
Now, this was an interesting bit:
How will Murderton react to the object of Dr. Calamity's affections?The urgency of tomorrow night’s gala event hit me like one of Diesel’s punches. I had 24 hours to get ready! And everything had to be perfect or I’d never hear the end of it from Murdertron! I did a base-wide communication to the henchmen.
Will Deisel find himself in distress from Murdertron?