Disclaimer: This story is going to be considerably dark, particularly in the later chapters. Specifically, I’ve incorporated elements of non-fantasy emotional manipulation into this story, and murder as a plot device (no graphic details though), so if you don’t want those things in your porn, I recommend clicking away now.

Not all swords are made equal, and, so too, not all heroes. Even among the likes of the venerated Hero Alliance, some stood taller than others, none more so than the unassailable paragon himself, the mightiest of the mighty, the one they called Power. He was both the most revered and feared of all the heroes. None other could compare to his all encompassing strength, speed, or sheer destructive energy. Truly, his name was well chosen, as no other could embody the concept of Power Itself the way that he did.

It is ironic then, that this very hero is also the most vulnerable and lonely of all of them. The price of being so singularly terrifying. There were no others like him. His people called him a kupua, a man with the might of a god. However, like a god, Lucas Knight was never able to truly be among the mortals. Everyone would love to watch him power up and save the day, but even among his own hero friends, no one ever seemed to quite be able to completely stop being wary of him.

The Superman story was a lie. That dream of being beloved and awe inspiring despite being not of earth was one Lucas could never realize, even though he was an earthling. Because the truth was, people will always find a way to other you. To be afraid and distant, even though all you’ve ever wanted was to belong. Belonging was difficult enough when you were “normal”. When you were an outlier, it was simply impossible. And that was true regardless of if you were the weakest of the weak or the strongest of the strong. Or both.

Lucas tries not to think about that most days. He may be the feared and untouchable god amongst men these days, but he still, in many ways, had friends. Friends that may never fully trust him, but they were still there. He was still not entirely alone. It was still better than before. Now he at least could go to college, and try to live a normal life. Now he at least had that chance. So despite everything, Lucas was grateful. And for a while, it seemed to be enough.

———

[Following the reinstatement of Victor Voclain himself as the CEO, the pharmaceutical branch of Voclain Industries is announcing a brand new initiative to subsidize and help develop low cost alternatives to life-saving drugs for the benefit of all Americans. Critics call this move a ploy to revive the company’s image following its recent scandal -]

“Of course it is!” 

Lucas hollered at the screen and slammed down the remote. It shattered into pieces, causing his best friend Johnny to poke his head into the room. All the younger members of the Hero Alliance lived together in a shared compound and Johnny was no exception. He was, in fact, one of the most popular heroes, despite being nowhere close to Lucas’ power level. His moniker was Dash, and there were few people, aside from Lucas, capable of moving as fast as he did.

“You, uh, ok there buddy?” The speedster asked.

“Yeah,” Lucas huffed and crossed his arms.

“Voclain again?”

“Yeah!” Lucas snapped an arm out to point at the segment still playing on the TV. “I can’t believe they keep falling for this shit.”

Johnny just sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, man. But I can’t say I’m surprised. Money. It makes people do stupid things.” 

Lucas’ expression turned even sourer. “Don’t I know it.”

Before Lucas was allowed to sulk further, his other best friend and teammate, an actual alien by the name of Cosmera, entered the room. She shut off the TV. “No sense sulking about it. We’ll just have to take him down again next time he tries something evil.” She glanced at the two young men. “At any rate, we’ve got bigger things to worry about - you two ready to head out yet?”

By bigger things, Cosmera meant the Hero Alliances Anniversary press conference. Every year, the new heroes and their mentors gathered together to celebrate the Alliance’s formation in front of the Truth and Justice Monument, some century-old thing depicting the nation’s very first superheroes, their predecessors, carved out in stone. The whole shebang was hideously boring and awkward, but they always went because that was the symbol they all stood for. The goodwill of the people was what made them heroes.

Kicking himself onto his feet Lucas nodded with appropriate sincerity and followed Cosmera out. A much more reluctant Dash followed after him. Then it was a quick flight, or run in Dash’s case, and then a non-stop afternoon of paparazzi and smiling. Lucas smiled so much that he thought his face would fall off. Lucas was almost grateful when news broke that a giant mecha of some sort was terrorizing the city. It at least gave them all a break from the non-stop joviality of the celebration.

The world was not about to let him take it  easy though, because everything went downhill from there.

———

Lucas awoke with a gasp. The dark room spun for a moment before his eyes stabilized. He did not recognize it. Shaking his head to try to remember what happened, Lucas knocked against what appeared to be some sort of metal wall behind his head. When he tried moving, he found his arms restrained by thick metal cuffs. Someone had tried to trap him here.

He shook his head and tried to remember how he got here. He had gone out on his own against orders (again) to fight a giant robot. Then he vaguely remembered a ringing in his ear before somehow, he overcharged his attack and his powers caused more damage than the robot. He and his team then had a huge fight over his actions that basically got him kicked out of the dorm for the night, which led to him going on a walk alone to sulk. Then, as he was wandering by the Truth and Justice Monument, the ringing happened again and everything went blank. 

And now he was here. Wherever here was.

Glancing down, Lucas could see, by the small light casting down from overhead, that he was strapped to some sort of examination table. It was an exceptionally sturdy looking one, with every restraint composed of dense metal at least several inches thick. He was also naked, his mask removed and every inch of his tanned and black inked skin left exposed. Ew. Whoever nabbed him was clearly a pervert.

Lucas tried flexing to break the restraints, but felt no response. Normally, even these sorts of bindings would have been nothing to him. All he had to do was power-up and he’d be able to rip them off without blinking. But something else was wrong. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to summon his strength, his mind lapsing in focus every time he tried. His powers, while still humming passively within him, felt dormant and inaccessible. Shit. Whoever brought him down here was prepared, and unlike every villain before them, had somehow succeeded in discovering his secret identity.

“I see you’re finally awake. Aloha.”

Lucas snapped his head towards the voice, and caught the silhouette of a familiar figure against the light from beyond the door before it shut behind them. Slow, methodical footsteps, made their way over to him. With each step, the figure moved further into the light hanging over Lucas’ table. Then the face of his arch-nemesis slowly revealed itself: Vincent Voclain, billionaire genius evil mastermind, in all his elitist Armani regalia.

“You!” Lucas was furious. He snapped at him, trying and failing to lunge out of his restraints, but his powers were just out of reach. “What did you do to me!?”

Voclain didn’t answer him, just smirked that annoyingly persistent smug grin of his as he walked step after step towards Lucas. The hero felt more and more of his hackles rise with each echoing click of his heels on the room’s stark floors. “Hmm, I bet you’re regretting storming off on those friends of yours now huh?” Voclain continued with that smooth voice of his as if Lucas had said nothing. “But it’s not your fault. I invested quite some energy in separating you from your precious little team. So of course, you all responded accordingly.”

His fight with Dash and Cosmera flashed before his eyes.

“The rules are different for you, Lucas! You know that!” Cosmera had yelled. “You’re too powerful! People are scared of you! More than anyone else you should be following protocol! If that area hadn’t already been evacuated —”

Then he remembered the vivid imagery of that demolished portion of the city and felt his stomach sink again in guilt. Everything just turned to ashes. But — he roared and thrashed at Voclain again. “That was you?! You monster! All those people —”

“Served their part in the greater purpose.” Voclain’s icy blue eyes were unnerving as he circled Lucas’s table, and the hero suddenly felt the urge to squirm and cover up his exposed skin as those pale eyes raked up and down his body. “You see, I’m getting *tired* of our little fights, Power. It’s just so unproductive for everyone,” Voclain explained, a leather black-gloved hand gesturing vaguely in the air.

“Like I give a flying fuck what you’re tired of.”

“So I made a decision,” his captor continued, completely ignoring his insults. “I’m going to bring you to my side.”

Lucas blinked for a few seconds as the meaning of those words sunk in through his wall of disbelief. Then he snarled. “Like hell you will.” 
Leather gloved hands seized him by the jaw and tilted his head back. Lucas tried to jerk away, but he was too sluggish and groggy from whatever inhibitor they’d stuck him with, so he failed completely.

“Oh, but my boy, you have no idea how convincing I can be.” Voclain’s thumb forced his mouth open, and before Lucas could bite back, a small vial of some sort of liquid was poured down his throat as two fingers clamped down on his nose. Lucas swallowed involuntarily before coughing and sputtering, finally managing to jerk his head away as Voclain’s hand released him.

“What - what the fuck was that?” The substance stung slightly and left a trail of heat where it slid down his throat. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, and he was in no position to throw it back up.

There was a mechanical whir, and then the table he was on lifted vertically so that Lucas now hung from it by his restraints. There was little give, but his position didn’t change much. “That my boy –” God, would he stop calling him that? “– was just a little something I had my team cook up to help…make you a little more receptive to my training.” A leather gloved hand came up to his face again and stroked gently at the side of his cheek. Lucas’ eyes bulged. “I have so much to teach you, Power. And I’m sure that in time, you’ll come to see how much better you are by my side.”

Maybe it was the cold of the room, but those words sent a shiver down Lucas’ spine. Refusing to listen, Lucas bit his lip and wrenched himself from whatever stupor he was lulled into and snapped his teeth at the hand touching him. He was rewarded with the hand pulling away, but his bonds held.

“You’re being ludicrous and you’ll never pull this off,” he spat at Voclain. “My friends and I might be fighting now, but they’ll figure this out, and they will come find me.” If I don’t power-up and rip you to pieces first myself.

Voclain smiled. It was a smug, almost eerie smile that Lucas’ hackles rising again. “Heh, indeed. But don’t worry my boy,” he leaned into Lucas’ space then, and despite the hero trying to back into the table behind him, he felt Voclain’s breath against his as the older man pinned him in and whispered, “By then, I will surely have already made you mine.”

Not for the first time, Lucas tried and failed to summon his powers (fucking inhibitors). And Voclain was too close, too close. It was too unnerving, or exciting, or something because Lucas could feel his heart hammering and his body heating up. He had to get out of break out, he had to get out, he had to —

“Ah, I see the drug’s taking effect.” 

Lucas hissed as he felt gloved hands touching him again, this time running down his tanned and tattooed arms. It shouldn’t feel good but it did, and Lucas had to forcibly tense himself to stop from relaxing into Voclain’s touch. The villain’s smirk was infuriating. “Pleasant stuff, isn’t it?” He hadn’t stopped touching Lucas. The hero felt like he was going to burst trying to hold back the sounds bubbling up in his throat.

“Not only does it make you amenable to suggestions from me, it makes a wonderful aphrodisiac.” 

Lucas felt his heart sink. No. No no, this couldn’t mean what he thought it meant. 

“We’ve turned quite a few of our test subjects into mindless sluts with this stuff, you know.” 

Noooooo. 

“But don’t you worry my boy. You’re much too special for that. This was all tailored just for you.” 

The hands that had smoothed down his arms were snaking up his sides now, and Lucas had to shut his eyes and bite down hard to stop from crying out as they came to rub at his way too sensitive nipples. “Besides, I always did prefer having something powerful under my fingers.” Voclain finished by pinching down on the hard nubs and Lucas let out a loud “Ahhh!” before he could hold back.

It felt too good. It felt too good to be touched like this. The haze of pleasure was starting to cloud out all other thoughts, but he couldn’t give in like this. Never mind that he was straight, this was Voclain, his arch-enemy, the most vile, ruthless man alive. He couldn’t give in to him like this. But Voclain wouldn’t be an evil mastermind if he ever let Lucas have anything easy.

“There, there, son,” he drawled as he continued slowly massaging Lucas’ nipples. “You don’t have to fight so hard. Relax. Let Daddy take care of you.”

Lucas could feel tears welling up in his eyes as those words sent another shiver through him. This was sick. It was sick. Voclain had no right to call him that, to say any of that, but all Lucas wanted right now was just to keep feeling those delicious touches and do as Voclain said. Shit, that drug was really working, wasn’t it? 

“Sh–shut up,” he said through gritted teeth before immediately clamping back down to stop another moan from escaping. “You’re not my – hrrrrngh!”

“No, I’m definitely not that,” Voclain laughed as he let his fingers trail downwards. “But you are mine.”

Lucas clenched his fist as he struggled through the delirium of pleasure. It was getting harder and harder to remind himself that he didn’t like what Volcain was saying. Mine. It was such a possessive thing to say, but fuck, it sounded like such a good idea right now, to belong to that deep, soothing voice, to those wonderful hands, to be owned and taken care of and – shit. Lucas squirmed futilely as Voclain’s hands traced down his sectioned abdomen, past his hips. He tried to pull his legs together as those deft fingers wrapped around his hard, leaking cock, but his restraints kept them spread wide in invitation to Voclain. There was nowhere to hide and nothing he could do except shut his eyes and turn his head away as the small sounds he could no longer repress slipped past his lips.

“Mmm yes. There you go, stop struggling so much. Let go. We both already know you’re enjoying it, and you have such a pretty voice.” Lucas’ moans steadily grew louder as Voclain stroked him. He still refused to turn his head, but his cheeks were flushed and trickles of tears were running past his dark lashes down his heated skin. He had to hang on, had to fight the effects of this drug…

“Look at me, my boy.” 

Lucas twitched involuntarily when he felt a hand tug at his chin again, and he blinked his eyes open before he could stop himself. In this light, and most probably due to the drug, Voclain actually looked *attractive*. Logically, Lucas had always known the bastard, with his sharply cut jaw, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes, was conventionally handsome, but he had never *felt* the impact of those features before, until now. Now Voclain just looked like the most enticing thing he’d ever laid eyes on and Lucas had to swallow down a whine that threatened to bubble up in his throat as nervousness and want coursed through him. Shit shit shit shit shit.

Their eyes locked as Voclain traced a thumb over his left cheek, wiping away the wetness from his eye. “You’re beautiful, you know,” Voclain told him as he leaned in closer. “I had figured as much even when you had that damned mask on, but it’s nice to be able to see the confirmation.” 

Lucas continued biting down on his lip. The hand *not* currently cupping his face was still sensuously stroking his cock so he couldn’t snark anything back without letting out some embarrassing noise along with it. It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t how they were supposed to fight. Voclain wasn’t supposed to have him so utterly exposed and at his mercy like this.

“So, does this pretty face come with a name?” 

Oh no, it’s happening. Once Voclain got his identity, there would be no going back from this.

“Power…” Lucas gritted, then immediately hissed as the hand on his cock pressed its thumb into the tip.

Voclain looked incredibly patient, with the air of calm that came from a man who knew he had already won. “Your real name, boy. Come on, I know you can say it. Tell Daddy.” The hand on his cock moved down to wrap impossibly tightly around Lucas’ balls and the hero squirmed, the pain and pleasure making him delirious, the restraints ensuring that he couldn’t get away.

“It’s…”

“It’s?”

“It’s…it’s Luke.”

Voclain’s responding laugh was ominous. Lucas yelped as the grip on his cock twisted sharply. “Luke? More like Lucas, no? Lucas Knight?” Ah shit. He already knew! “Come now, my boy, did you really expect me to have you all tied up here and spread for me without having done some digging into where that pretty face came from?” God, if only the bastard didn't literally have him by the balls…

“Whatever, you still don’t – hng – don’t know shit about me.”

“No?” The hand on his genitals mercifully loosened its grip, but then Voclain swiftly went back to stroking him and Lucas wished he could just die already. It really really didn’t help that he was achingly hard and leaching, his own fluids facilitating his humiliation at the hands of his worst enemy. “Let’s see if this sounds a little familiar then. Lucas Knight was a little orphaned street rat in Oahu with nowhere to go and nobody to love him or care about him –” Lucas immediately tensed. “– who did petty crime and was in and out of the juvenile justice system until he developed powers in his teens and got picked up just by the Hero Alliance. That sound familiar?” Voclain’s smile was knowing. “You never were all that good.”

Another swell of tears flowed from Lucas’ eyes as the vivid pain of those memories came pouring back to him. He barely talked to anyone about his past and yet here was Voclain, of all people, telling him his own story like it was some kind of fairytale. Lucas wanted to scream. He could no longer tell if it was the drug making him feel all these things Voclain was telling him, or if it was just because the man had hit every single painful point about his lonely early years. He hadn’t even come yet, and he was already feeling wrecked.

The hand stroking him let go and he panted heavily, shuddering in on himself as he sniffled through the burning in his eyes. But Voclain just wiped away his tears again, and continued, sounding soothing despite his malice in his words in a way that made Lucas want to explode. “They’ll never understand you, you know. Not like I do.” Lucas shivered as the hand on his cheek moved down to trace the black inked geometric patterns dancing up his arms and across his back and shoulders. “They’ll never understand your loneliness, or how special you really are.”

“Shut up!”

“But I understand. I understand the real value behind your power. I understand the thrill you get from exerting your strength, the feeling of being above it all. They’ll always be the little people, Lucas. Nothing like you or me.” That drew the sobriety back to him and Lucas jerked against the restraints again in a roar of anger.

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!!” He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes. “I am nothing like you!”

“No? Then why is it I’ve always been the only one who has never looked at you in fear?” 

Lucas froze again. 

“All those friends of yours. You’ve always known they’d never truly trust you, didn’t you? That there’ll always be special measures to keep you in check?” 

Lucas bit his lips and jerked his head to the side, trying desperately not to process what Volcain was saying as more hot tears ran down his cheeks. But every word cut him straight to the core, and they were too true to shut out. Seemingly taking pity on him, Voclaim fingers came back and gently cupped his cheeks. When Lucas looked at him, Voclain’s expression was oddly soft, like that on an actual parent worrying over their child. 

“Oh, you poor boy. You need not have suffered so, all alone with no one truly on your side.” A small smile curled on the edge of the mastermind’s lips. “But it’s alright, my boy. Daddy’s here now. I’ll take care of you.” He then leaned in and kissed Lucas on the top of his forehead while the latter tried not to cringe. It was a lie. All of it. Obviously. Voclain was a hideously selfish and power hungry megalomaniac who never cared about anyone but himself. Lucas has seen evidence of this time and time again.

But the more Lucas listened, the more he found himself genuinely wanting to believe it. Believe that even if it was Voclain, there was someone out there who’d take care of him like he always desperately wanted. No. Lucas bucked against his restraints one last time in a vain show of defiance. Unsurprisingly, it still didn’t work. Then, a thumb gently wiped away his tears.

“Shhhh, no more of that now, dear. Be a good boy, Daddy’s going to make sure you’re never lonely again.”

The words were not revolting to him anymore. Not after that emotional roller-coaster. Instead, they were just there, valid, acceptable, true, and Lucas didn’t want to fight anymore as Voclain closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against his own.

He parted his lips and let the older man inside, his own tongue responding only tentatively at first. But he soon let the pleasure wash through him again, inspiring new need and enthusiasm, and he kissed back with fervor. Voclain’s words continued echoing through his mind in distant whispers, but he paid them no conscious heed anymore as he let them sink into the recesses of his psyche.

When the restraints fell away, Lucas found himself clinging onto Voclain instead of pushing him away, fingers digging into the expensive fabric of the Armani suit as his captor pressed him against the vertical table and rutted into him. Lucas found he didn’t care anymore. Everything had become a haze, just a pleasant buzz of post-emotional euphoria along with want and longing and *delicious* satisfaction as Voclain touched him and squeezed him. As the older man told him filthy details about himself in his ear, Lucas could only find himself passively submitting to their truths and whimpering in agreement.

“Your moans are worthy of a whore,” Voclain told him as he pressed a slick finger against Lucas’ hole. “You probably want to be fucked like one too, don’t you? Letting all those pesky hurts and worries wash away as you’re used. Don’t worry, just spread those pretty legs for Daddy. I’ll make sure you get what you need.” 

Lucas tightened his grip even further and buried his face in the crook of Voclain’s neck, twitching as the finger made its way inside. It felt strange and foreign but oddly good. Then Voclain found his prostate and he was moaning again, his ass rutting back against it as his brain screamed for more, more, more.

“Yessss, now that’s a good little slut.” The second finger pushed in much more easily and Lucas found himself arching into it even as he continued to cling to Voclain’s shoulders. “You see? Your ass was made for this. Made to be fucked. Pity it took so long for someone to show you.” Distantly, in the back of his mind, Lucas knew that this wasn’t actually him. He wasn’t gay, or a slut, but the knowledge felt completely irrelevant in face of all the pleasure he was feeling.

“Aaaah! Voclain! More! D–daddy!” He didn’t know why he suddenly felt compelled to say that word, but he did, and it was probably loud enough that the whole building of wherever they were in could probably hear him. He couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Such a good boy,” Voclain cooed as he thrust a third finger inside. “Daddy knew you’d come around. Now you just keep screaming Daddy’s name like that. Good slut.”

It must be the high, because that new word Voclain started calling him was really starting to stick. Slut. Yeah, that felt right somehow. At any rate, he liked the praise. If it also meant he was a slut then so be it.

“Daddy’s going to fuck you now,” Voclain told him as he spun Lucas around and pressed his chest against the vertical table with his ass still arched out. “And you’re going to love Daddy’s cock. It’s going to feel so good, you’re never going to be able to come back from this. Yes. Moan, just like that. There you go.” 

Voclain thrust in with one smooth motion and Lucas howled as he saw stars. He loved it. He really did love it. And as Voclain started thrusting inside him, Lucas could only pant out more desperate pleas for him to continue.

“Fuck ah–! Yes! Voclain! Fuck me harder! Please! Ah! Ream my ass! Make me cum!”

Voclain’s cock really was amazing. It rubbed his insides in all the best ways and hit his prostate every time. Being fucked by him was a blessing Lucas didn’t realize he needed, and he came so hard at that realization that he blacked out again.

———

Note: Kupua are a Hawaiian category of supernatural entities which are somewhere between gods, spirits, and super-powered people. Maui from Moana is an example.

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