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No More Heroes 2: There's Even Less Heroes Now

Spectre was upset - no, he was more than upset. A super hadn't been hostage like this in the city in decades, but the overwhelming response from those in charge was indifference. A shot of what was clearly Boulder in his mask, his eyes curiously blacked out, streaked with some anonymous person's orgasm had been circulating the internet, uploaded by someone who called themselves 'The Puppeteer'. The public had been upset as well, but the nature of the internet meant that one week later urgency to find the bear had waned, which just added to how upset he was. There were only so many supers in town, and there were only so many that had the time to search for Boulder.

Right now he was the one on patrol, using his invisibility to quietly scour the last place he was seen, a park on the west side of town. He had kept himself invisible for a low profile, observing the patrons and the parks layout for anything mysterious or suspicious. Unfortunately, nothing was making itself apparent. He was last seen on a security camera stomping into the park, but no cameras had shown him leaving.

Sighing in frustration, he stepped aside to make himself visible. The park wasn't too busy so nobody noticed the red fox clad in his grey spandex shorts and mask at first. He passed by a few furs who waved at him, excited at seeing a super walking around in the flesh. He always tried to wave back. It was important for citizens to understand that without the mask, he was just one of them, and he acknowledged that by responding and conversing to anyone who reached out to him, so long as he had the time.

'I just wish we had more help...' Spectre was pretty close to Boulder. The bear was 10 years his senior, and when he had joined the ranks of the supers he acted as a mentor figure for him, accompanying the big guy on patrols and taking down petty criminals. He don't know how he got wrapped up in...whatever situation he was in, but he wanted nothing more than to get him free.

He crossed the street briskly, entering a coffee shop he frequented both on and off the job. 'I wonder if any of the staff will ever catch on. Doubtful...' As he waited for his coffee he went over everything he knew about the situation at hand. The Boulder was last seen on camera running full speed into the park, responding to a distress call that was heard by others, but not seen. Before that, he was helping out with a house fire a few blocks away. The day after he went missing the photo was posted in the early morning, which means that whatever had happened in the park likely led to his capture.

His coffee arrived, the waitress regarding him by name. "Here's your pick me up, Spectre! Day going good?"

"Ehh, slow, and not really getting anywhere, Janice. So I'm gonna say no." He took a sip of the coffee, piping hot but refreshing against his tongue.

"Oh no! Well, maybe some caffeine'll do ya some good, yeah?"

"With any luck, Jan." He chuckled.

'With any luck.' He put a palm to his forehead. This was useless. Nobody had made any progress - no evidence, no eyewitness, no nothing. He had shown the social media account to a local techie who was good with tracking that sort of stuff, but he hadn't been able to pin down any sort of location. 'Not enough content,' he said.

He sighed, scanning the small dining area. There weren't too many patrons. A kangaroo mother with her baby in her pouch, a canine behind the counter cooking something. And a stout weasel across the way, staring curiously at him - probably a fan, with how antsy he looked. He gave a polite smile and wave, at which the small weasel returned. He also took that as a cue to walk over and start some small talk.

"You're Spectre!"

"Yep, that's me."

'S-sorry, you probably hear this all the time. Thanks for e-everything you do."

"Just doing my duty is all."

"Of course! Um, I'm starting up a little autograph book of all the heroes I meet, and you're actually the first one. W-would you mind..."

He trailed off, searching his pockets for a pen to write in the little notebook in his hands. 'Huh, a burgeoning fanatic.' Guys like this could be annoying, but their excitement was occasionally infectious. This little weasel seemed to be nervous just to be in his presence, which was honestly kind of endearing.

The weasel eagerly held out a pen, and the fox took it. "Haha, I'll give you an autograph bud. Who should I address it to?"

"Woody."

"Well Woody, I'm glad I could christen your book here."

"Oh, thank you so much, Spectre!" ... "So...stop any bad guys today?"

"Naw...I'm actually out searching for Boulder."

"I heard about that...I can't believe he got kidnapped. Things like that just don't happen around here." The weasel looked melancholy thinking about the news.

"Well, they are now and I don't have any leads. It's been a frustrating couple of days for me."

"D-don't worry. Between you and all the other supers, I'm sure you'll see him soon."

"I hope so Woody, I really do." They were silent for a few seconds, and he really just wanted to finish his coffee, so he politely ended the conversation. "Well, you have a good day!"

"You too!" Smiling, the weasel returned to seat across the diner, tapping away at a smartphone.

With the coffee to give him a little more pep, he left the coffee shop behind and started to walk around the block.

"Spectre?"

He whirled around. That was the sound of - there, in the alleyway. An imposing figure stood dressed in casual clothes, the only thing sticking out being the obvious mask around his head.

"Boulder?" He took a few steps forward. The figure didn't move. "Boulder, is that you?"

'What the hell is he doing in an alleyway? Is that actually him?' He remained cautious. It sounded like him, but something was up. He proceeded, letting the shadows of brick buildings take over and hide him from the sunny street.

"Boulder, if that's you, say something."

"It's me. Boulder."

'That didn't sound very convincing.' He was about ten feet away when he saw the grizzly's fist tense up. Up this close, he could finally see his eyes - they were just like they were in that photograph. Pitch black.

Without warning, the grizzly charged, a stone hard fist connecting with the side of the fox's muzzle before he could duck.

"Shit!" As he stumbled, he activated his cloaking ability. It was a little harder to maintain with the throbbing in the side of his head, but this was his best option. He was physically no match for the colossal bear - he would need to get distance on him before making his next move.

He threw himself toward the other side of the alley, trying to slip by unnoticed. He was successful, but the bear had heard his paws padding against the concrete. The sound of metal scraping and heaving came from behind him. He turned to look a second too late, unable to duck to avoid a dumpster thrown right at his back. That was a big hit - he fell to the ground, his invisibility sputtering out as his former mentor bounded toward him. He was still conscious though, and he knew he had to move. Steeling himself, he headed toward the right, around the back of the cafe. He should've headed back to the park as soon as it was clear the Boulder had turned coat - he wasn't gonna run through buildings with this wall smasher chasing him.

Just as he had finished that thought a door swung open catching him completely off guard, hitting him square in the muzzle. It knocked him on his behind, the fox seeing stars. Before he could even regain his composure the ursine tackled him from behind, catching him in a tight bearhug.

"You are so predictable, y'know that? I thought I was gonna have to do more work, but your dumb ass actually stayed in the alleys!"

Another familiar voice came from above - one he had heard just minutes ago.

'No way...that fucking pipsqueak?'

"You...? You're the Puppeteer!?" He struggled to get his comm device, but the weasel leaned down and plucked it from his side pocket. Spectre's eyes widened as the weasel stomped it beneath his feet, pieces of plastic splintering off in every direction.

"No...You're not gonna get away with this, weasel! Someone's going to find out who's responsible!"

"Boulder, shut him up."

His invisibility wouldn't do a damn now. His struggles were futile as the bear landed another rock hard punch square to his head. The fox went out like a light.

---

When he came to, his head was still pounding. His eyes fluttered open, trying to figure out what had happened. Spectre found himself laid down against the wall of an unfamiliar, concrete room. Sat at a desk with several computer monitors was... 'That weasel! Right, I had found Boulder, and then...'

'Shit.' Underneath the desk, he could see the furry brute laid down, his face pressed up against the Puppeteers socked feet. That just about confirms it. 'There's no way the bear would do that. He's being mind controlled.' A pang of fear followed when he realized that he was probably next in line. He shifted around, looking down and realizing he was in no position to make a move.

A thick, metal collar sat around his neck, chaining him to the concrete wall at a height that wouldn't let him stand up. He was unfortunately nude now, the only thing still on him his mask. In addition, his hands were bound behind his back, catching a glimpse of leather mitts. His ankles and knees were also bound tightly with rope, making any movement difficult. He shifted about anyways, moving to a kneeling position. The chain around his neck rattled, catching the attention of the web-surfing weasel before him.

"Oh, look who's finally woken up! You were out for like, 5 hours."

Spectre was silent. He didn't want to converse with this madman, but at the same time he had many questions.

"What did you do to him?"

"Oh, you mean my footrest? Well, it's what I'm about to do to you."

He scowled. "What, you're just gonna make me your personal slave? Is that what this is?"

He leaned down, cupping the foxes muzzle. "Hehe, well...No, but it's definitely a neat perk, I must say. You won't be a footrest, though. That's what the big guy's for."

The fox looked right into the Puppeteer's mischevious eyes. "Why...Why are you doing this?"

He was silent for a few seconds, then stood back up "I think it's funny that no one, not one of you heroes, actually managed to find this guy. You had a whole. Week. A whole week! He's fuckin' huge! But none of you could manage to find him, or me for that matter. And when you finally came across him, you just got yourself captured! What's with that, huh?"

Spectre furrowed his brow. "What the Hell are you getting at, Puppeteer?"

"You're all so useless, so stupid!" He was throwing his hands around now. "But under my control, maybe you all could actually be of use. And when you're not helping me gain power, you'll be useful by being my own personal playthings! The bear's my footrest. You...You're gonna be something else. Don't worry...You'll love it."

He looked over to the Boulder, the large figure still curled up underneath the desk. He was in a daze, but he swore that the bear was looking directly at him. "I sincerely doubt that."

"Oh no, really! Your dumb pal over there-", he pointed his thumb over his shoulder - "gets so rock hard whenever his feet are on my face. I promise you'll be the same way, whether you think so or not."

"No...no! What you're doing his wro-" In the middle of his sentence, Woody pulled out a device, leaving it in the foxes field of vision. It lit up in a rainbow of colors, and the foxes gaze was immediately drawn to it.

"Say good night!" The weasel cackled as he watched the foxes brain fog up, his muscles growing slack and his eyes drooping.

'Crap! Why can't I look away...What's happening?' His vision grew cloudy, as if everything was covered in a gray fog.

"S...stop..." His voice came out slow and slurred as the screen turned into a swirling, hypnotizing pattern.

"Mm, I don't think I will. Oh, there go your eyes!'

'My eyes...? No...'

"Look at me. Listen to my voice." His ears grew alert, his eyes suddenly trained on the weasel.

"I'm your master now. You will listen to everything I command. You will be obedient, no matter the cost. Do you understand?"

The fox slowly nodded his head, his thoughts too muddled to disagree with his body. 'What's happening to me?'

The weasel took a step back, reveling in the face that he now had two superheroes under his command. "Spectre, you love the taste of cock. Everytime you see someone elses dick out, you want to service it. And nothing makes you more excited than service.

'Servicing cock...I...I could do that...' His body felt oddly warm as the weasel continued to give him instruction. Something about the weasel in front of him was becoming awfully alluring, but he wasn't sure why.

"You also love to drink piss. You love the feeling of it running down your tongue and throat, getting it all over your face and being used as a urinal..."

'Hold on. I love...piss?' That wasn't right, was it?

"What do you love to do, Spectre?" Well, if his master said so, then it must've been true.

"I love to service cock, master. I love the taste of cum and I love to drink piss too, Master."

"Good, good!" The weasel turned around, grabbing a pair of wireless earbuds off of his desk. "This should make things go a lot smoother and quicker than last time."

He placed the earbuds in Spectre's ears, letting them do the rest of the work while he started to undress. The voice that came through was the weasels, repeating basically everything he had just said on loop.

"You love to service cock-"

'I love to service cock.'

"You love when someones busts a load in your maw."

'I love when someone busts a load in my maw.'

"You're nothing more than a hole and a urinal."

'I'm just a hole. I'm just a urinal for...Master...'

The weasel had undressed and was now standing fully in the nude, his prick poking out of his sheath. Something came over the fox - a feeling in the pit of his stomach and a burning in his cheeks. He was just absolutely smitten with the figure in front of him. Over the repeated commands, he could still hear the weasel.

"Suck it, slave." He said it with a sneer.

Wordlessly, the fox shuffled forward on his knees a bit and let his tongue lap at the weasels protrusion, coaxing it further from his sheath. His tongue slid around the short pink cock making the weasel stifle a moan.

'I must be doing good...' He lapped around the base, catching a stronger whiff of weasel musk coming off of his balls. A hand guided his maw back over the cock, making him take the whole thing.

"Yeah, that muzzle of yours was made for this..."

'Oh, thank you Master!' His ears grew hot from the praise, and it just made him work harder at the dick he was tasting. The fox bobbed his head more fully, tongue washing over that prick, his world nothing more than the weasels tan crotch and what was attached. He was busy learning every nook and cranny of his masters member - every vein, every spot that made him shudder. A hand grabbed the back of his head, handling him roughly, shoving his face right into the lithe weasels crotch. It kept him there, his nose snug up against fur, and he let out a groan of satisfaction himself. 'To pleasure him, it makes me feel so... so good!''

The fox's manhood had made itself known, but there was nothing he could do about it with his hands behind his back in mitts. That didn't matter much - the joy he felt with his snout full of weasel cock was more than enough. The little paw on the back of his head gripped tighter, making sure the fox knew his place.

"Fuck...You got such a nice mouth, foxy..." The weasel idly teased the vulpine with dirty talk, feeling pleasure mounting in his loins that only brought him closer to the edge with ever lick that wrapped around his member.

"You want nothing more for me to b-blow my load right down your throat..." The weasel was panting, leaking pre onto the vulpines maw, and then he felt it - a stream of hot, sticky weasel cum blasted on to his tongue. "Oh God!"

The weasel let his hands fall to his side, allowing Spectre to gently bob his head, happily milking the ermine for all he had. 'I've never felt...this good before...'

That little cock was still dribbling cum when a loud, shrill voice came out of one of the computer speakers.

"WOODY, YOUR DINNER IS READY!"

"God damn it!" He pulled out of Spectre's jaw, letting the fox get some air as he angrily stormed over to his desk and spoke into it.

"Just gimme a minute Grandma!"

"IT'S GONNA GET COLD WOODY, HURRY UP BEFORE IT-"

He turned the speaker off, looking down at the bear who was groveling at his socked paws on command.

"Hey, footrest. You have to pee, right?"

"Oh, yes master, I've been holding it in for-"

"Well guess what? Your fox pal over there loves it when you pee in his mouth." The Puppeteer leaned down, peeling off his socks and stretching one over the bears muzzle. Spectre could hear the bear huffing the scent hungrily. 'He loves to serve master, too...'

"I'll be back, playthings! Don't you worry!"

The fox watched his master disappear behind a close door, and he felt a little pang of sadness in his chest. The taste of his cock still lingered on his lips though, and that comforted him. He said he would be back too, so it was alright.

The bear came out from under the desk, his naked hulking frame striding toward Spectre, his fat soft cock swinging with each step. He stood in front of the fox, the only thing on him his mask and a sock hanging from his muzzle. 'That's...that's my friend. Boulder...We're both...slaves?'

"I gotta piss." It came out muffled from behind the sock, but the fox knew and understood what to do, especially with the repeated instructions worming their way into his brain. He opened his mouth immediately, tongue awaiting the bears urine. The bear was also wearing leather mitts, and he struggled to hold and aim his dick with them, trying to point it at the foxes open, eager maw.

It came instantly, the hot, bitter taste splashing across his tongue. It mixed and melted away the remnants of the cum still in his mouth, a whole new scent and feeling opening itself up to him.

'It tastes...' He struggled to get used to the flavor, but when he looked up and he saw his comrade looking down at him, his loyalty to the weasel adorning his face, it clicked. 'It tastes like him...This is where I belong.' The voices in his earbuds echoed his thoughts.

"You're just a cocksucking urinal."

'I'm just a cocksucking urinal.'

"Drinking piss is so refreshing and tasty."

'Drinking piss is pretty refreshing and tasty...'

"You'll service Master, and his slaves, too."

'I'll service Master and Boulder and anyone else he wants me to.'

The bear's mitts shook, trying to keep the stream steady. He failed, getting pee all over the foxes mask instead as he finished emptying his bladder.

"Sorry about that, Spectre." Boulder looked down with his darkened eyes, his expression unreadable with the sock on his face.

"Mmm, it's ok. I love it in my fur, especially if it's one of Master's slaves." It was sinking in, staining the whole of his muzzle with a familiar, pleasurable scent.

"Oh...I'll remember that, then." Boulder shook his penis like he would at any other urinal to keep it dry, then turned around and lumbered back to his spot under the desk.

Spectre leaned back against the wall, his cock aching from the excitement of serving. "Hey Boulder, could you..." The bear looked up, busy pressing the sock into his muzzle with those leather mitts. "Um...Help me out with this?" He waggled his erect dick.

"Master says no cumming unless he says so."

"Oh..." Well, maybe if he was a good little slave and did whatever Master asked of him, he'd be able to orgasm sometime! He took a deep breath, letting the hypnotic commands take over his thoughts. He looked around the room one last time - the bear under the desk, the bed in the middle of the room, a collar around his neck - this was where he was supposed to be. Serving his Master. And hey, he found Boulder! If Boulder was here too, this had to be the right place, right?

'This is good, everything is alright. This is where I belong, this is my purpose...' He let the nasally commands of the weasel put him into a trance and dozed off.