Heroes: Sentinel (Chapter 7/16)

Chapter 7: Reverberation

Location: Trap Master’s Lair. New City USA.

The henchman named Cross bellows, “BOSS! WE GOT HEROES!”

I’ve seen ten henchmen while being dragged across the smooth concrete floor. They’re all shirtless in white gear - tights, tall pro wrestling boots, wide leather belts, gloves, and glued on masks around their eyes and covering their nose. They’re all muscular with tattoos, some slim, others bigger. And they all have words painted on their chests - their code names.

Cross and Rack are the two biggest ones of the henchmen I’ve seen. They handled dragging my 320-lbs of muscle easily, both big and strong with powerlifter bodies. Of course, it helped in that I let them drag me without resistance, feigning unconsciousness. Maybe a mistake, but I’m kind of enjoying it. And orders are orders. Intrepid doesn’t want my help, so I’ll play along.

Cross asks, “We figured out how they got in, yet, Manacles?”

“I’m working, I’m working. Little bitches avoided the alarms.”

“This ain’t no little bitch.” A guy with the word ‘Cuffs’ on his chest nudges me with his foot “Fuck, he’s massive.”

Okay, I’m sure that there are only ten henchmen, based on voices and heartbeats. Only Cross and Rack are very into me. The others are a lot more interested in Combat Kid and Intrepid. I don’t take offense. The boys are very cute and famous. I’m just an unknown muscleman in a full bodysuit. The henchmen keep stepping on my abs to go over me. Jerks.

Intrepid and Combat Kid are still unconscious. They’re being checked out and felt up by the henchmen when a man in a white lab coat, white dress shirt, black tie, black pants, gloves, and white platform boots with surprisingly solid heels. He’s a fit 5’8” / 140-lbs (although some of that height might be the boots), nerdish but cute - clean shaven, with brown hair, a bright white smile, and green eyes behind black horned rim glasses. Adrian would call him adorkable. I think. Anyway, this, I assume, is Trap Master.

The villain orders them to bind the young heroes to frames that look like old-fashioned torture racks. He finally notices me and strolls over. “Who’s this giant slab of beef?”

Manacles says, “We don’t know, but I checked the cams. I’ve heard that Intrepid was running around with a new bruiser guy. Guess this is him. The tunnel video shows him bossing the beefcake around, calling him Beef Boy in sign language, like a hero version of a henchman.”

“Ah, so just some meathead sidekick.” Trap Master crouches beside me. He runs his long fingers over my torso. He gives me a couple of ab punches. THUD! THUD! “Solid. Like cement.” He knocks on my forehead, “Cement up here, too, probably. Looks like you picked the wrong side, Meathead.” He looks down at my crotch. “Well, this is obscene.” He feels the codpiece. “As hard as his head. Wonder what he’s protecting that’s so valuable.”

Rack eagerly says, “Want us to check, boss? We could open that suit right up. See what he’s packing.” I hear a laugh then he adds sarcastically, “Weapons. In case he’s got weapons.”

Trap Master ignores him, “Idiot musclemen do have their physical charms, I suppose. Chain him down to the floor first. Spread-eagle. Maybe double chain him. I get the feeling Intrepid’s new meathead is stronger than human. Once he’s secured, we’ll see what we’ve captured.”

“You got it, boss.” With that, my legs are lifted and I’m on the move again. They put me in place, surrounded by heavy hooks and steel support posts. I’m left alone. When no one is looking, I float myself slightly to the left so I can see the young heroes strapped to the racks. I close my fingers on one of the chain links that will be used bind me. Just normal metal.

I relax again as they return. No one notices I’ve moved or the bent link. Tough to get good help these days. They start attaching the chains to my wrists. Turns out, it’s a ten-henchman job. Two on each limb, pulling and stretching me. The other two circling and securing the chains. I’m solidly trapped. If I was Adrian, I might not even be able to break free. Of course, my son likely would’ve been paying attention and not carelessly activated the trap.

Not that it matters. I won’t break free anyway. I have to wait for Trap Master to come back. If I were to break out now, he’d escape, as Intrepid warned. Maybe I should’ve grabbed him when he was here, but there was no guarantee he had the diamonds on him. Oh. Cross and Rack start feeling me up. Being helpless is surprisingly titillating. They talk about my bulge.

Rack argues, “Boss said ‘once he’s secured we’ll see what we’ve captured’. He’s secure and I wanna see.”

Cross replies, “We gotta wait until the boss comes back.”

They agree to wait. Cross walks over me like a rug. I grunt. Rack comes over with a baseball bat. He bounces it on my abs then pushes it down. Lightly at first then upping the pressure. I groan, letting out a long breath. I stir, figuring this should wake me up. They see me writhing and back up. All ten henchmen surround me. Some look nervous. One has a fire extinguisher labeled ‘knockout gas’. I decide to give them a show.

I try to sit up, straining against the chains. I act like I’m fighting against the metal bonds, grunting and groaning. I growl and make it look like I might actually succeed. The little one named Rope says, “He’s gonna break free!” I roar then fall back in failure. Rope shakes his head, “Thank god the boss had us double chain him. This one’s really strong.” I growl again and make show of fighting once more. Once more, I strain and fail.

When I lift my head a third time, Cross drives his steel-toed boot into it. I snap back to the floor, moaning. I writhe in the chain as sexy as I can but don’t show any more resistance. Rack stands on my abs and chest. He bounces up and down, “I like this one. About time we had a big man to play with.” He says, “Okay, you guys go worry about your little heroes. Me and Cross got the meathead. We’re gonna have some fun.”

The smaller henchmen divide in half, four to Intrepid and four to Combat Kid. Chains grabs Intrepid’s costume at the clavicles. He pulls down, stretching the strong fabric. Manacles joins him and it finally tears. They pull the black bodysuit down, exposing the young Latino’s chest and abs. They stop when they reach the pelvis, letting the fabric hang down as a flap.

The henchmen take turns pummeling Intrepid’s abs. The young hero wakes up. I call out, “INTREPID!” He sees me chained to the floor. Cross and Rack are stomping my abs. As I sell their abuse, I look for the okay to break free, but it doesn’t come. I realize that Trap Master isn’t here. As long as he’s out-of-reach, we have to play along. I turn back and keep reacting appropriately to the brutal bashing from the shirtless powerlifters in white.

I’m glad I moved, because I can see the guys. A henchman called Shackles reaches down the front of Intrepid’s torn costume. He goes in deep, obviously grabbing the Latino hero’s balls. He squeezes and Intrepid groans. They laugh that he’s not so tough now. He begins slapping Intrepid’s cock in his thong. I can’t see it but it’s obvious what’s happening. It takes all my willpower not to save him, but I obey orders.

The others go back to pounding on Intrepid’s ripped abs. They take turns, laughing at the helpless young stud. On his next turn, Chains toys with his nipples, squeezing, tugging, and teasing. He warns, “Trap Master better not leave us alone with this one too long. I don’t know how long I can go without just fucking his ass raw.”

The others around Intrepid agree. I get worried that they’re getting out of control. I look and still my son’s dom refuses to ask me to save him. I hate seeing him treated like this. I realize how important he’s become to my life. He’s a friend. My first normal human friend. The henchmen have finally settled down, going back to fondling and caressing Intrepid’s amazing body. I feel a little relief until I hear pained groans.

I turn my head to see Combat Kid getting worked over, too. His vest is unzipped and hanging open. His henchmen alternate physically abusing him and erotically torturing him. The smallest hero resists. I see his body recover quickly from the punishment thanks to his healing factor. Still, he’s clearly feeling the pain when it happens. The lightweight hero writhes and struggles as they have their way with him.

Cross and Rack are still pounding away on my body. I wish I could share my invulnerability with the guys, but I can’t. Intrepid’s abs are red from the abuse he’s received. I know mine won’t be, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Fortunately, I’m being convincing and my costume is intact, so they don’t know how ineffective their attacks have been.

The henchmen move off the ripped heroes. I see them grab cranks. Oh no. They turn them one notch, stretching out Combat Kid and Intrepid more. The young studs moan in pain. I hear zapping. The racks are electrified, shooting low voltage. It’s not deadly but I don’t like it. The henchmen turn it off. Enough is enough. I focus and short out the power to the racks so they can’t try again. Sorry, Intrepid, but apparently my obedience has limits and no one will ever know.

The three of us remain bound, just helpless toys against the henchmen. I don’t know if the younger heroes could escape but I could. Cross and Rack stop pounding me. They kneel on either side of me. They debate tearing my suit open. I feel my cock strain against the cage. Being stripped by these two big musclemen sounds strangely hot. I lift my head to watch. They look at me.

Cross says, “Trap Master doesn’t give a shit about him. Let’s unmask him.”

“I wanna unmask that bulge.”

Fortunately, Trap Master returns. They jump to attention. He returns to me, “Conscious, huh? Any sign of intelligence?” I growl at him. “I guess not.” He crouches down, “Boys, you can have him. I prefer some brains with my brawn. I just know you are the reason they got caught, Meathead. Combat Kid and Intrepid wouldn’t have fallen for that particular trap.”

The villain puts his foot on my abs and walks over me. I’m getting tired of being everyone’s doormat, but I’m also aroused by it, too.

“The courier is coming. You have a few more minutes to continue to enjoy the captives. Remember, just fun stuff.” He points at Intrepid’s red abs, “Yeah, like that. When it’s time, we’ll bring Combat Kid. These other two, we’ll leave here. They’ll figure out how to escape. Well, Intrepid will and he can waste time saving the Meathead.”

The villain leaves. I look at Intrepid. He can’t see my eyes but I’m sure he knows what I thinking. Why didn’t he tell me to end this? Perhaps sensing my frustration, Intrepid whispers, “He might not have the diamonds on him, yet. We’re fine. Be patient.”

Fine. I will follow orders. Cross and Rack circle me. They talk about my ass, “We should’ve tied him face down. Look at his ass. It’s like he’s lying on two watermelons.”

Maybe I can make it interesting and distract them. I look up at them, “Don’t you sickos even think about touching my ass.”

An enraged Cross dives down, driving his knee into my abs. I have to suck it in to ease the impact so he doesn’t break his shin. The big henchman slides around and straddles me. He bitchslaps me. I turn with it to keep him from breaking his hand. I’m being way too nice to them. Cross still has to shake out his hand. He grabs my face at the chin and turns me to look up at him.

“You don’t give orders to us, Meathead!” I growl defiantly. “Yeah, ’grrr’ all you want, tough guy. That’s all you can do. You’re the one chained to the floor. We’re the ones in charge. We fucking own your musclebitch ass.”

I snarl, “Prove it.”

Cross grins. He slides back then rests on one knee between my legs. Rack kneels above my head. He lifts my head up, making me watch. I see the henchman at my ass slide his white gloved fingers up between my legs and under me. He runs his fingers inside my crack. With my arms up and this too small costume riding up my ass, it creates a deep chasm.

“Yeah, we own this ass and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Cross finds my hole and pushes into it. He grabs my codpiece, “We own this, too, bitch.”

I snarl, “All ten of you combined couldn’t handle my cock. Bitch.”

That gets everyone’s attention. They come over, leaving the captured Young Crusaders alone. I get ruthlessly pummeled by their boots, the relentless attack raining down on my legs, arms, torso, and even my head. I grunt and groan, selling the pain, but I put out some bravado, telling them I don’t even feel it. I want them focusing on me, so I mock their masculinity. I’m vicious, anything to keep their attention on me. It only makes them try harder to hurt me.

Combat Kid doesn’t realize how much I can take. He tells them to stop. They all back away, but not because of that. Rack comes forward, twirling the baseball bat. He puts the end on my codpiece and rests on it. The henchman says, “You think you’re tough, Meathead? Now, Trap Master got rules. But you’re making me wanna break those rules.” He picks up the bat the points at Combat Kid and Intrepid, “By going after them.”

I’m shocked, “What?” This was not my plan.

“You don’t give a shit about yourself? Then it ain’t no fun to beat on you. But maybe you care about them. You’re chained up. Helpless. You can watch us break a few twink hero bones.”

Oh no, what have I done?

Up next … Chapter 8: Negotiation - Sentinel meets Trap Master! (1/15/2023)