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CHAPTER SEVEN

POSSESSION OF STREAK

10 August 2015

The next morning

It was disgusting. The fighting pit below was stained with dried blood from fighters who had been either seriously injured or killed. The last fighter was busy being carted away on a stretcher after his superior opponent decided to show mercy, though his injuries would likely constitute several months of slow recovery. Both of them wore only skimpy trunks in accordance with the rules. The pit was a wide square hole in the ground, surrounded by legions of cheering criminals behind the railings surrounding it who took great pleasure in watching the brutal conflicts.

I had snuck in through a vent in the ceiling, and was now looking down at the pit from my perch on a metal beam. I found it after trailing several thugs who I knew had ties to this underground fighting ring. People who got in deep with the sharks came here to fight in the hopes of paying off their debts, or they're scum looking for some sadistic fun or some extra minions. Either way, the losers either died or became the slaves of the winners. To say it wasn't barbaric would be an understatement, but that's why I was here. I didn't tell the police though. With a crowd like this, they'd have a full on riot on their hands, or worse, a mass shootout. I wasn't prepared to risk them. But all I needed was to find the owners and bring them to the cops, disbanding the ring and scattering the members for the cops to pick off.

"Who's next?!" yelled the announcer, eager to get the next fight started. A lizard wearing only a hockey mask and bulging spiked codpiece, he stood on a platform at the far end of the room, yelling into a microphone.

"You cannot sneak around here without being seen," I heard Falcon say in my head. Indeed, there were too many people, and I wasn't finding the heads of the operation without getting my paws dirty.

I was comfy in the darkness of the perch above the arena, but I couldn't stay there any longer. A fight had just ended, and a vicious brute was done beating a frightened smaller guy to a pulp. I couldn't watch this happen. I had to act, and had just the dumb idea. Falcon didn't like it, but it would throw them all off guard, and probably draw some big heads out of their holes. Leaping off the metal beam, I fell gracefully to the centre of the concrete pit, landing with acrobatic perfection. The crowd instantly went silent. Revealed by the lights from around the pit, my blue leotard shone arrogantly as I stood tall, puffed up my chest, and clenched my fists.

"I'll give you a fight you'll never forget!" I yelled at the big brute before he could pound his victim. Then I turned to the crowd. "Tell me where the owners of this operation are and maybe I'll go easy on you, huh?"

The silence grew longer. A few seconds later, my ears perked up as I heard a chuckle. Then another. Then some laughter. A few seconds later, the whole room was roaring with amusement.

"Perhaps you should have spent more time looking for another strategy?" asked Falcon.

Then one of the thugs jumped over the railing and landed in the pit. He was a beast, bulked up heavily on mountains of muscle. A lion, his sinister grin made his intentions very clear. I could take him, but the moment I heard more boots hitting the concrete floor, I realised he wasn't going to be my only problem. In a few seconds, there were ten large brutes in the pit with me, all cracking their knuckles, necks, and slamming fists into open palms. All while the little guy was dragged away by some other thugs, hopefully to safety.

"Lemme have his costume!" said one of them. A parrot.

Just as it dawned on me that I may have incorrectly anticipated the response to my arrival, the violent brutes charged me. The first thing I did was jump into the air, moments before they could touch me, and two of them clashed skulls beneath me.

Nimbly landing nearby, I then felt another thug grab my arm and pull hard. If it weren't for my enhanced durability, he might have torn my arm from its socket. Instead, he span me through the air before releasing his grip and letting me go flying into the concrete walls of the pit, cracking the strong surface with my collision. I was stunned as I felt painful tingles throughout my body.

"Get up, bitch!" yelled an enthusiastic gangster as I tried to stand. "Make this fun for us!"

Then he grabbed me on the back of the head before slamming my skull into the concrete floor, and my vision went blurry.

I wasn't gonna take this lying down. No pun intended. Though my ears were ringing and I was dizzy, I managed to put both paws on the floor and shove myself upwards, throwing my back into the thug's stomach and knocking the air out of him. I quickly shook my head to try and clear away my confusion, and soon became aware of two more thugs lunging at me.

I jumped up high once again, but this time I landed on the back of one of the thugs as he crashed into the wall under me. The other reached for my arm, but I saw him coming and raised a leg to my side to kick him in the jaw, sending a tooth flying across the pit as he went flying backwards.

"You little...!" raged the thug beneath me as he recovered, and I lost my balance and fell over.

Then I entered the waiting arms of another thug, who was fast enough to grab me. He held me tight in a bear hug that squeezed the life out of me, and I gasped and wriggled in sudden panic.

"Get comfy, fox," he said, grinning right into my face. Then he squeezed ever harder.

"AAAHHHH!" I shrieked, air violently exiting my lungs as I felt what might have been a rib snap.

"Yeah! Crush his cute ass!" yelled another thug.

I was better than this. I couldn't let them beat me that easily. So I head butted the thug, causing him to stammer back in pain, but he maintained his grip. I head butted him again, and this time he finally let go, allowing him to nurse his bruised head.

The other criminals were upon me. My ribs and lungs burned, but I still had plenty of life left in me, so I decided to change strategies. My keen senses telling me another thug was coming at me from behind, I jumped up once again just before he could snatch me in his outstretched arms. With acrobatic perfection, I stood on his head, upside-down, on one paw. I was about to laugh at the thug for not realising where I had gone until I winced with a little twist of pain in my ribs, but I held my pose.

"Anyone wanna tell me where your boss is yet?" I asked, yelling over the crowd. "Or do you wanna lose some more teeth first?"

Realising I was on his head, the thug below me shook and I lost my balance. But I expected this, and as I fell, I made sure to land on the guy's back, where I pushed off with a firm shove to his spine with my two boots, throwing him forward as I span in the air before landing with a kick to the jaw of another thug.

"Get the little punk!" someone yelled.

Then things moved fast. The thugs crowded around me, throwing a wave of punches and trying to grab me. I dodged and blocked as best I could, hoping I could tire them out, but my rapid movements were starting to weigh heavy on my injuries, and the effort needed to avoid getting hit may not have been worth it.

A strike landed on my own jaw. None of my own teeth were lost, but it sure hurt. I retaliated with a punch of my own. But then another punch hit my kidney, and I paused for just a moment to nurse my bruises. It was enough of an opening for several thugs to grab me by the arms. I struggled and pulled, throwing the two brutes around before someone charged into my back, knocking me down on my belly. They pinned me down, one thug on my back while the others held down my arms and legs. With my injuries making it hard to move, plus the weight of the massive brutes holding me, I was sufficiently restrained.

"Not so smug now, are ya, you little loser?" sneered one of my captors.

"Heh! You're royally screwed, superhero!" chuckled another.

"You're really gonna get it, fox!" said another.

"Not yet!" yelled a severely familiar voice. I couldn't see him, but I could tell he was approaching. "Lemme take a look..."

Still on the ground and grunting with fruitless effort, I looked up to see the group part to allow the newcomer to gain access to me as he jumped into the pit. Filled with dread, I recognised him immediately. Slender frame composed of oily black slime in the silhouette of a Doberman, the amorphous supervillain Dirtbag approached me.

"Look who crashed the party, boss," said a random stooge.

Soon the villain was standing right in front of me, but due to my position, I could barely see above his lower legs. Then he crouched, examining me for himself as I looked him in his black eyes.

"Nice work, superhero!" said Dirtbag with his thick Australian accent. "Looks like you discovered my little club!"

I struggled harder. This wasn't a good position to be in. Renowned for his cruelty, Dirtbag was perhaps the most difficult opponent I'd ever fought. The only reason I ever survived my encounters was because he wanted me to live with the humiliation of each and every painful defeat.

"Y-You..." I said, struggling to breathe as the thugs shoved me against the ground. They weren't taking any chances.

Dirtbag hardened and snapped his slimy fingers. The painful pressure holding me down was eased as the thugs slowly released me, giving me room as they stood back. They were still very much enjoying this, eager to see what their boss had in store for me. Dirtbag stood.

Taking a deep breath and fighting back the burn in my chest, I slowly stood up, grunting with effort. Stretching my arms and legs, there were a few aches and pains, but nothing that would weigh me down for the fight ahead, and there would definitely be a fight. Falcon would heal me up, but I needed time.

"Hng... You run this place?" I asked, maintaining an angry expression and ready for battle.

"That's right, mate! I'm the guy in charge, and there's a lot o' cash to be made here."

That made me angry. This little business of his was killing innocent people down on their luck. "You'll pay for the people you've hurt here!" I blurted out.

"Eh. Maybe one day, mate. But not any time soon. Today, I win." A pause. He looked away for a few seconds, thinking. "How about this, mate. We fight. If you win, you leave. If you lose... then I do whatever I want with you. Sound fun?"

I didn't have much choice. I could try to escape, but gangsters and thugs were everywhere. I wasn't gonna get out of here without going through them first. My best bet was to beat Dirtbag back, or at least buy time for me to recover some strength.

"Fine..." I responded with a sigh.

I didn't exactly know what losing meant, but from the sound of it, he might have intended to keep me alive, even though it sounded like he had unpleasant interests in mind. Thankfully, that was all I needed to have hope that I could come out of this with my life.

Dirtbag moved back, stretching his arms wide in a show of confidence. "Eager to get your ass kicked, superhero?"

As the thugs in the pit backed away, climbing out of the arena, I got into a stance of my own, legs spread and fists near my chest. It was the best fighting stance I had, though I learned it from Manasa. "That won't be happening," I responded, firmly.

"Kick his ass, boss!" yelled someone in the crowd surrounding the pit.

"Crush the life outta him!" yelled another.

"Make him scream your name!"

"Tear him apart!"

"Make him blow a load in his tights!"

I'd be lying if I said the mockery of the criminals watching us wasn't demoralising, though my rising temper made me eager to teach these scum a lesson.

I was determined to make sure that Dirtbag wouldn't get the drop on me, so I went in first. I span around to throw a raised heel into his face, hoping I could knock his slimy head off and maybe disorient him. He ducked. I tried a kick to his stomach. He dashed to the side.

Deciding kicking was too slow, I resorted to punches. All three rapid-fire attacks connected with his slimy body, but ripples spread out from the points of impact as he absorbed the energy of my blows. He grinned at me.

"Try harder, fox!" he taunted.

Changing tactics, I jumped over him, flipping through the air while kicking him in the back of the head. My boot got trapped in the black slime and Dirtbag span me through the air before I even had a chance to land. A moment later, he released his grip and threw me into one of the arena's concrete walls, but this time I managed to brace against the landing, paws on the wall and arms bent to absorb the impact.

Recovering, I retaliated as fast as I could, leaping to the side of my opponent before getting in another punch to his head. This time, my fist became embedded in the oily matter. Then his mass reshaped itself, and the next thing I knew, my arm was firmly held in his slimy paws. Then he swung me through the air again, tossing me into the concrete wall of the pit once more. My back hit the wall upside-down. My head hit the floor first and the world went dizzy as I lost all feeling in my body. I slumped to the ground in a vulnerable position with my butt in the air against the wall while the back of my neck was against the ground.

"Mate, you're pathetic!" taunted Dirtbag, slimy paws on his hips as he looked down at me, still grinning. "Wanna give up yet? Then I'll end this punishment."

"Loser!"

"Teach this slut a lesson, boss!"

"Get up and fight, twink!"

As the world grew steadier around me, I slowly stood up, supporting myself against the wall for balance. Painful tingles were still running through my body, but I tried to shake them off.

"Boy, you need to escape," said Falcon. "There is no reason to remain here and fight. Get the police involved."

He was right, and I knew when to take a hint. I turned and jumped up, reaching for the railing above the wall. Of course, with my enhanced ability to leap, I reached it easily, swiftly flipping over the railing to the stands.

"Not so fast, mate!" yelled Dirtbag, right before he extended a long tendril of black slime from his arm, quickly wrapping around my throat and pulling me back towards the arena, bending my spine against the steel railing behind me.

The thugs around the pit were quick to take advantage of the situation. One punched me in the stomach while another struck my face. I was more durable than any normal person, but they were hitting me really hard. To add to the severity of my situations, the string of slime around my throat was strangling me, pulling me into the ring while the slimy supervillain bent my spine to its limits. If I didn't fall in or escape soon, he'd break my back.

Another punch hit my belly, forcing the air from my lungs. Then another to my jaw, and a little blood streaked through the air. I'd be bruised after all this, assuming I survived. A thug grabbed the crotch of my costume, forcefully squeezing and sending waves of pain through my abused body.

Thankfully, the cruelty didn't last long, since another thug had grabbed me by the ankles to lift me up and roll me over back into the pit.

"Aaaagh..." I groaned as I landed on my stomach, feeling something break. If it weren't for the tendril still wrapped around my throat, it would've been a lot louder.

"No escape, fox," the villain continued, licking his slimy muzzle. "It's way too late for that. Tonight, you're mine."

I coughed as I struggled to get air back in my lungs, getting onto all fours, but the strangulation was making it difficult. "N-No..." I stammered.

Dirtbag chuckled. "Afraid you're gonna die, kid? Afraid I'm gonna make you scream?"

I was. If he beat me down, Dirtbag could very easily tear me apart, suffocate me, crush me, or who knows what. Thoughts of the many horrific ways he could end my life surged through my mind. But I remained quiet, glaring angrily at him in a show of defiance.

He pulled me closer, still holding me by the neck. I gagged as I struggled to tear myself away, grabbing at the slimy collar to try and remove it. Instead, my paws became affixed to the sticky substance.

"Awww! You're so cute when you struggle in desperation and fear!"

When we were close enough he embraced me in a hug, removing the grip around my throat and slowly crushing the life out of me by pinning my arms against my sides. I let out a strained wail of pain as he compressed my ribs. A slimy tentacle from Dirtbag's crotch extended to grope me between my legs, humiliating me further. The strength of Dirtbag's slimy mass was easily enough to restrain me, hardening around me to prevent any escape. Even my enhanced abilities were helpless against his power.

"Come on, superhero! Get hard for me! You know getting beaten turns you on!"

I continued to struggle in agony as Dirtbag's grip tightened further. But then he released the bear hug, and my broken body fell onto the floor on my back. Were I any normal person, I would've lost consciousness, or worse.

"I've won, superhero," he said. He was on top of me before I had even the slightest chance to recover. "Now beg for your life!"

He hardened a black fist like some kind of polished black marble. Then the fist came down on the side of my head, sending a surge of pain through my skull, like I was hit by a ball of solid iron. I noticed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Then he hardened his other fist and brought it down on the other side of my head.

"I told you I'd kick your ass, didn't I?" taunted the villain, grinning down at me. "Now, anything you wanna say?"

I closed my eyes tightly. I had no chance. All I could do was grasp for what small hope of survival remained. I should've tried to run earlier, but at this point, I was beaten. I couldn't take the brutality any further. I needed a reprieve. All I could do was beg.

Still dizzy, but clear-headed enough to hear his words, I swallowed my pride and spoke through clenched teeth: "I surrender. Please don't kill me."

The villain's smile grew wider. "There's a good boy. Oh, I probably should have mentioned, Manasa has mandated that I take you to her, so..."

I gulped in fear as Dirtbag brought his head close, looking me right in the eyes. Of course, Manasa wanted me back, and now I was done for. I assumed I'd be seeing her very soon.

"But I wasn't lying when I said I had plans for your cute ass, kid."

Then his head warped into a formless blob and he shoved his way into my mouth. The bitter taste of his slime covered my tongue as he moved in deeper, sliding down my throat with little resistance. My gag reflex kicked in, but it didn't make a difference, and I was left choking on the black ooze that was slowly suffocating me, drawing further cheers from the cruel audience.

"Drink up, superhero!" I heard him say as he filled me up and more and more.

I desperately clutched at the slime forcing its way inside me, but the substance merely slithered between or around my fingers, so my efforts were useless. Then his arms pinned mine down against the floor. In this position, there was nothing I could do. Below, he was slithering over my body, coiling around my torso and limbs, with some sneaking their way into my costume to wrap around my length. The suffocation had the effect of making me hard, and he was taking full advantage, but I was too busy struggling to stop him from entering my mouth to care about his molestations.

Another tendril snaked into my rear, forcing its way into my entrance under the fabric over my rump, instantly pushing against my prostate. By now, my hips were heaving and thrusting as Dirtbag infested my body. The combination of pleasure and pain was unbearable as I felt my insides overwhelmed with his invasive presence.

Slimy tendrils webbed tightly across my body, almost like a net, as my vision grew darker. Dirtbag's slimy mass had completely covered my eyes, turning them a shiny black, but the membrane was thin enough that I could still see. As he finished shoving himself inside me, he left copious amounts of his slime filling my mouth, oozing out from between my teeth. As the villain settled inside me, I then noticed the most unusual thing: I could breathe.

Then I felt Dirtbag's slime seeping into my grey matter, and my thoughts began to grow chaotic, quickly inducing panic. I assumed he was killing me from the inside.

"Don't worry, fox. You're not gonna die," he said, but now his voice was coming from inside, between my ears. "I have something much worse planned for you."

As Dirtbag's slime sunk into my brain, I realised my body wouldn't obey my commands, despite him no longer restraining my limbs. I was totally helpless, frozen as Dirtbag had his way with me. I could feel every uncomfortable and gruesome moment of his mass squirming and moving around inside me. I was a prisoner in my own body as he committed the ultimate violation. Over time, Dirtbag's treatment of my body had brought me to full hardness, primarily due to the slime massaging my prostate and throbbing organ inside my leotard.

After a minute of this torture, my body began moving against my will. I slowly and clumsily lifted my body, standing up, but I was slouched over like a zombie. Dirtbag was in control now, and he was adapting to his new vehicle.

"Testing, one, two, three," he said. However, the voice wasn't inside me this time. Dirtbag spoke the words using my own mouth. His voice was mingled with my own. "Now, let's give you your loser's medal, shall we?"

Finally, Dirtbag brought me to climax. With a few soft thrusts of my hips, I came furiously in my costume. Despite the incredible ecstasy flowing through my abused body, I couldn't move except by instinct and reflex, muscles contracting as my balls unloaded their warm juices into the strip of fabric between my legs. The crowd took great pleasure in seeing the darkening patch of blue lycra, laughing at my predicament.

"Wow, that was quite an orgasm!" said Dirtbag as the ordeal finally subsided after nearly a whole minute. "Doesn't feel very heroic to cum in your tights, huh?"

But the villain was not done with me. Not by a longshot. His slimy paws reached down to grip the softening mound in my costume, firmly rubbing and massaging my sensitive parts through the fabric. Despite having unloaded mere seconds before, I was already returning to full hardness. No doubt Dirtbag's influence in my brain was making this possible.

"Tell me you love watching me make this little superhero cum!" yelled Dirtbag with my mouth.

Raucous cheers rose up from the crowd surrounding the pit. Indeed, our audience was enthralled with this sadistic, erotic performance.

"You like watching a superhero blow his load?"

More cheering. They loved it. They loved my suffering. I was still fully aware as well, totally conscious as I took in the cheering crowd of criminals and gangsters.

"Who wants to see this wanker make another big creamy mess in his costume?"

More cheering.

"Falcon, do something!" I pleaded silently, desperate to escape this torment.

"I have no advice, my friend," responded Falcon. "But never stop hoping. You are alive, which means you still have a chance. Your time will come."

Then I just felt frustrated. "Gee, you're as useful as ever..." I thought, sarcastically.

"Let's do something about those pesky thoughts," said Dirtbag, interrupting. "I don't need you to waste this little brain of yours with trivial stuff like thinking."

A moment later, my mind began to fall silent, and putting thoughts together became difficult. Everything felt so good, so warm, and peaceful as my mind grew quieter. I wanted to just stop thinking and enjoy it. No more struggle. No more resistance. Just the silent acceptance. The idea of giving up just seemed so comforting. Thinking became an effort that I didn't want to bother with. But no, I couldn't submit so easily.

"Falcon!" I screamed in my head, realising Dirtbag was basically making me a vegetable, though I had trouble maintaining the level of fear I needed to focus on keeping my mind together. "Stop him!"

"Hold on, Streak!" urged Falcon, his voice growing more and more silent as my own thoughts did. "Hold on for me!"

"Shhhh. Sleep now, Streak," Dirtbag was saying. "Sleep forever, because now your body is mine. You are mine."

I struggled to tell myself that I was in control of my mind, to maintain my presence, and to continue to maintain any semblance of coherent free thought, but it was so hard.

"Sleep..." continued Dirtbag.

Using my arms and paws, Dirtbag pulled at the neck hole of my costume, widening it before sliding it down my body, pulling my arms out the arm holes, and letting the silky fabric fall to collapse around my ankles. Then he slipped off my tight blue boots, kicking them aside. The crowd cheered as I was stripped, now clad only in webbed tendrils of black slime.

"Enjoying the show, mates?" asked Dirtbag out loud, instantly drawing another loud cheer of approval.

If any thought lingered in my mind, I would've felt humiliated beyond imagining. No superhero should suffer defeat of this magnitude. Anyone who dresses in a spandex costume and sets out to fight for the innocent against evil deserved a better end than this. Dead, but still alive, and forced to become Dirtbag's vessel for his erotic sadism, and not a thought of condemnation in my mind. The only thing I recognised was the pleasure he was giving me, totally uninterested in anything else. Streak was thoroughly destroyed, and I didn't even care. That was true defeat.

"This'll make a fine trophy," the slime monster continued, picking up the smooth blue fabric from the ground with my paw.

With my other paw, he firmly grasped the solid meat between my legs. He began rubbing, faster and faster, much to the glee of the perverted crowd, making sure to give them all a good view. Finally, my body again reached the precipice, and I painted the concrete floor with streaks of warm fox cream. As usual, though my body was torn asunder with pleasure, my mind was silent and dumb, but I could still hear the crowd roared even more joyfully with each spurt and thrust.

Then the slime on my fur rearranged again, sliding over my body into a new shape. Seconds later, I was wearing a black version of my costume: a high-cut sleeveless black leotard with tight black boots. It was smooth, conforming to my bodily features as well as my original costume did, softly pulsating as it relentlessly pleasured my sensitive body within. Dirtbag looked down over the new outfit with my shining black eyes, admiring how we looked. The crowd cheered with glee once more as Dirtbag turned my body into that of a slave.

"Like the new threads, kid? Hahaha!" he laughed. "Get comfortable. This is gonna be your life from now on. We're goin' out for a night on the town, and soon this city will have a new villain to fear. I bet they'll be calling you 'Dark Streak' by tomorrow. I think Manasa can wait twenty-four hours."

•••

The next afternoon day, I felt like I didn't even exist anymore. I slept the silence away, feeling safe and secure somehow. That was all that mattered, simply accepting everything Dirtbag did to me. With an empty mind, I resigned myself to my fate; a host for this parasite who didn't even need one. I was nothing more than an object for him to abuse. I was empty, accepting everything he told me. I would simply be a part of him. I would be his body. Somehow, I would love every moment of it, the safety and comfort of being wrapped in his gooey embrace for the rest of my life, never caring or worrying about anything. That was my purpose: to be Dirtbag's body.

We carried four huge sacks full of cash as we exited the gigantic safe. Thanks to my strength, it wasn't difficult. We entered into the larger main lobby of the bank. Our fifth robbery in the past fifteen hours. Now it was afternoon of the next day, and the news was already abuzz with stories of Streak robbing banks and major stores while dressed in black instead of his traditional blue.

"Please, Streak! Don't do this!" pleaded the woman behind the counter. A young polar bear. "I know your reputation isn't looking good, but--"

"Streak isn't here anymore," interrupted Dirtbag, speaking gleefully with my own dripping goo-filled mouth.

The villain reached out my arm, grabbing the frightened bank clerk by the throat and pulling her over the counter. He held her high in the air, slowly squeezing ever tighter as she thrashed desperately, gasping to breathe. Though my mind was almost totally blank, I was still fully aware, and I felt a great urgency and fear as Dirtbag choked the life out of the innocent woman with my own paws.

"No... Please... Don't..." she stammered before her eyes rolled back into her head. With very little effort, Dirtbag had crushed the life out of her with my own hand. Such was the fate of anyone who stood in our way. She was only our third victim so far.

I held the clerk's body up high by the throat for all to see. "Anyone else have something to say?" Dirtbag said.

The other employees kept their paws in the air, totally silent. They knew how serious we were.

"I didn't think so."

Satisfied, Dirtbag turned me around and walked us out of the building. At last, we stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, where an assembly of police cruisers and cops pointing their pistols lay in wait.

"I hate it when a job is behind schedule," the villain said to himself.

"Stop, Streak!" yelled the superhero standing at the front of the assembly, armed with a megaphone. It was Bedrock, the massive muscle-bound bull, easily recognisable in his high-cut red posing trunks and bandages around his forearms. His distinctly cockney British accent was loud and powerful as he spoke into the device. "You've been terrorising the bloomin' streets of our city all night. That's not very nice, and we really need to do something about this. As a result, this ends today, before it even begins!"

Dirtbag rolled my eyes. "No one seems to get the point," he said. Then he raised his voice and yelled to the assembled law-enforcers: "Streak can't come to the phone right now!"

"I know that," responded Bedrock. "But I'm not talking to you, sadist. I know that Streak is in there somewhere. A good lad. I want him to know that we're gonna save him! As you can spot, I've brought some mates, and I don't want to have brought 'em 'ere for nothin'!"

"The fox boy is dead, mate!" yelled Dirtbag, putting my paws on my hips in a pose of victory. "His juicy body is mine, and so is half of this cash!"

Dropping the two bags he held in my right paw, Dirtbag leapt upwards with my powerful legs. I gripped a row of stonework above the bank entrance with my newly freed right paw. Then I launched up again, latching onto the storey after that, climbing ever higher.

"Don't shoot!" exclaimed Bedrock as the cops trained their weapons on me. "We're getting the lad back alive. Set up a perimeter around the block."

Then Bedrock pursued, jumping after us with his own incredibly powerful legs. Dirtbag let out a growl of frustration as he looked down to see just how efficiently the horned superhero was tailing us. Like Dirtbag with my body, Bedrock gripped the side of the elegant stone architecture forming the walls of the bank, rapidly climbing after me. His speed was ferocious.

Seven storeys up, I climbed onto the bank's roof and began sprinting for all I was worth. If Dirtbag wanted to escape, he needed to bypass the police perimeter before it could be established, and he needed to shake Bedrock.

"Streak, stop!" I heard Bedrock yell behind me, loud and clear. That meant he was now on the roof with me.

Under Dirtbag's command, I continued running to the edge of the roof before leaping over a distant alleyway to the next building before continuing to run. Taking a moment to look behind me, I saw Bedrock was keeping pace, having just jumped over to the same roof. Despite his size, he could run as fast as me.

"Don't make me chase you, bruv!" he yelled after us. "Don't yer wanna give us a fight? I know you're the lad who loves givin' blokes a beatin'!"

It was clear that we weren't shaking Bedrock off my tail easily. Dirtbag needed a new strategy if he wanted to escape. So after two more leaps between buildings, we finally came to a stop, turned, and prepared to face down Bedrock.

"Come get me, superhero!" yelled Dirtbag, preparing my body for battle, fists at the ready.

The big bull superhero grunted before charging at us. Dirtbag was quick to make me dodge, but Bedrock was an experienced hero, and swung his leg to trip me up. It connected, but I landed nimbly on my paws and jumped back into a standing position.

Bedrock continued his attack, throwing a few punches in my direction, but I dodged pretty easily before leaping up onto his massive arm and kicking him in the face with a black slime boot.

"AGH!" he yelled, stumbling back. "Ouch! What a big--"

While he recovered, shaking his head, I pressed the attack. He suddenly ducked, aiming his elbow in my position, but I ducked under it, put my back on the ground, and kicked his face a second time with my legs in the air. He keeled over backwards.

"Speed over muscle, beefcake!" said Dirtbag, putting my paws on my hips as I stood up straight. "Too slow, and now you're gonna die!"

Bedrock sighed as he sat up, cradling his jaw. "Forgive me, Streak," he said, bouncing slightly on his feet. "But you'll appreciate this later. I'll cop that jerk out o' yer in no time. Just 'ang in there."

"Streak doesn't appreciate anything anymore, and soon, neither will you."

The bull rolled his eyes. "Quit with the villainous banter, will you?"

"And quit gloating when I kill you? Not a chance, mate."

I charged. Bedrock prepared a defence before I ducked and slid against the concrete for a moment. I was aiming to slide under his legs and throw a dirty punch to the bulge in his red trunks, but he saw me coming and threw a punch straight down, stopping me in my tracks and cracking the concrete roof with my back. I was stunned as the air ejected forcefully from my lungs. Then the hero grabbed me by the ankle and threw me over to the far side of the roof, rolling to a stop before I managed to regain my balance.

It was Bedrock's turn to charge. When in range, he threw another punch. Despite the pain in my chest, Dirtbag forced my body to duck to avoid the attack before swinging my leg around as hard as I could. The force was just enough to trip him up, and his massive bulk tripped over the low parapet at the edge of the roof. As he began to tumble to the ground far below, he reached out and grabbed my leg, pulling me with him.

Then we fell. Bedrock and I were both startled, struggling to find something to hold onto, but Bedrock prioritised grabbing hold of me. Dirtbag wasn't giving up that easily, shoving a fist into the hero's jaw. He seemed more annoyed than hurt, but continued trying to grab me, pulling me close.

"I'm not losing sight of you, lad!" he said, teeth barred in my face as he wrapped his arms around me.

"Not when you're dead," responded the villain with my mouth, sneering at the hero.

A moment later, solid concrete was shredded as Bedrock's back collided with the ground, churning up dust as a loud bang shook my whole body. A few seconds of shock passed, lying on Bedrock's chest with his arms wrapped around me. Our surroundings had darkened, and I could hear the sound of water falling on rock.

Then Bedrock's arms fell away, and now he was lying unmoving on his back. Dirtbag made me slowly stand, checking that every limb still worked. We had fallen through the ground and into the sewer, surrounded by falling water from broken water pipes. We looked down at the fallen superhero, seemingly unconscious.

"He took the hit to protect you, fox. His body absorbed the impact," said Dirtbag. Then he sneered. "What a loser."

There was no time to waste. If we lingered any longer, the police would track us down. Stepping off the downed bull, we sprinted down one of the tunnels. There was no way the police could track us in this labyrinth, and Bedrock wasn't gonna be a problem. We were home free.

We arrived at the hideout an hour later. It was in the maintenance tunnels under the illegal fighting ring, connected to the sewer and tunnels beneath the city. Despite the location, it was surprisingly well-decorated, with curtains over the exits, a few couches, and even a desk. This was where Dirtbag had been conducting all his business, and a few sacks of money sat piled in a corner after our long night of thievery.

But the highlight of the collection of treasures was my costume. My shining blue leotard was hung up on the wall, with my blue boots clumped together beneath. It looked sad, put on display like a trophy from the defeated, long-dead hero who once wore it proudly.

"Phew!" said my sinister slime master, relieved to have escaped without much trouble. "That could've gone badly. But now I get my alone time with you, don't I, mate?"

Dirtbag moved my paw between my legs, grasping my slime-covered genitals to begin caressing and massaging me through the substance. This happened after every heist since he possessed me.

"Yep. Looks like you're not getting your freedom any time soon, mate. I think I'll give you maybe a thousand more orgasms before I kill you. How does that sound, Streaky?"

"I beg to differ!" yelled Bedrock, somewhere nearby, judging from the echo.

Dirtbag turned my body rapidly to examine our surroundings. Bedrock was nowhere to be seen, but we knew what we heard. "You followed me!" he yelled with my mouth.

Just then, Bedrock fell through a large metal grate in the ceiling, plummeting before landing heavily in the middle of the chamber. "I said I'd free Streak," said the massive bull, glaring angrily at us. However, his movements were slower than usual, straining to move. "I'm not callin' it a day until I get the lad 'ome safe and sound."

With my tongue, Dirtbag licked my muzzle in anticipation. He had noticed Bedrock's weakened state. "Just try, mate."

Bedrock charged at us once again. Dirtbag had me leap into the air, intending to flip right over him, but the bull anticipated the move and grabbed me by the leg. I felt my organs get shoved forward as I changed direction midair, thrown back down in front of the scantily-clad powerhouse.

"Take that!" he said, pleased with himself. "I may have a few bruises, but when I make a promise, I keep it. Now, give me the lad before I--"

"You talk too much!" Dirtbag yelled, interrupting the talkative bull.

Dirtbag rolled my body to the side, out of Bedrock's reach. The hero kept up with us, doing his best to keep me within arm's length, but I was dodging his attacks pretty well. However, the amount of effort needed to avoid the behemoth's powerful strikes was starting to weigh heavy on my body, and soon I was panting.

"As long as you got that kid inside you, you're not as strong as you think you are!" said Bedrock, voice full of confidence.

"I can take you on any day, Bedrock!" responded the villain.

Then I felt the most familiar sensation: free thought. I could start to form basic ideas in my head, but messily.

"Boy, this is your chance!" said Falcon, his voice sounding out of nowhere. "Dirtbag's mass is suffering your loss of stamina too, forcing him to devote more energy to fighting than keeping you quiet. You are strong! You can break free!"

Indeed, my capacity for thinking was flooding back. I remembered who I was, and I wanted to be that person again. I fought against the black tar that had invaded my mind, struggling to keep him from reasserting control, and maybe take back some of my motor functions.

"No you don't!" said Dirtbag, angrily as he screamed into my mind.

I began to feel ripples of intense pleasure once again as Dirtbag vibrated and massaged my torso. My arousal built to the maximum instantly and I was already beginning to cum. A few more seconds passed and I was climaxing, over and over again, inside the black slime leotard, invisible to Bedrock. However, I felt warm and comfortable in Dirtbag's grip, having acclimated to having him inside me. I discovered I wanted to give up and be one with Dirtbag, to let him manipulate and stimulate me, to pleasure me as his host for the rest of my life, but I knew that I needed to fight him, to take my place as a superhero once again

Meanwhile, Bedrock hit us again. Despite his injuries, he was powering through this, giving Dirtbag the fight of his life.

"Come on, Dirtbag! You're stronger on your own, bruv! You can't do two things at once, can you?" my saviour yelled.

We were hit by another massive blow that Dirtbag wasn't fast enough to avoid. We were sent flying, my back hitting a wall. Then I found myself on the ground, slouched against the wall and stunned by the shock of the impact. Bedrock was right, Dirtbag was more powerful in his slime form. I couldn't take on Bedrock, so neither could he.

"Bugger," said the villain, and he suddenly began to slide out of me. His black form slithered off my flesh and fur while long tendrils of ooze snaked out of my mouth and rear. In a few moments I was completely from his ownership. He stood up in front of me in humanoid form. "I'll be back for you..." he said, pointing a gooey finger at me before running off to attack Bedrock.

I opened my eyes slowly. It was bright, the result of my eyes being exposed to only partial darkness for so long. I saw my hero fighting with Dirtbag. It was incredible to see how he fought the slime monster, but by the looks of things, he was having a lot of trouble fighting off Dirtbag. The villain, freed from my body, was slithering around with athletic grace that made him look like black air. Bedrock simply couldn't touch him.

I wanted to help, but I was naked and fragile, wearing nothing but my white fur. I tried again to pull myself to a standing position, moving over to where my costume hung on the wall. I was about to grab the shining leotard off the table when I turned to see Dirtbag latch onto Bedrock's arms, struggling to restrain him. With another tendril, he shoved his mass over Bedrock's crotch, immediately vibrating and massaging him through his especially high-cut red trunks. I quickly began hearing the moans of my fellow superhero as he was abused by the black goo, and despite his strength, he could only barely move the power black ooze that held his arms in place.

Every attempt to stand resulted in me falling to my knees again and again, too weak. I was free again, but it looked like Dirtbag was going to get his way in the end. Dirtbag suddenly plunge into Bedrock's throat. I heard the hero groan loudly in agony and discomfort as the slime villain infested him. His eyes were tightly closed as he gurgled and gagged on the black ooze forcing itself into him.

This wasn't time for getting dressed! Thinking quickly, I looked around for something I could use as a weapon. I noticed some wires running along the walls and immediately knew what I had to do. I quickly moved to tear the wires off the walls, slowly regaining my strength as Falcon empowered me. A few seconds of pulling later, and the wire came away in a shower of sparks. I turned around and ran towards the two, hoping this would hurt Dirtbag more than Bedrock.

"STOP!" yelled Dirtbag, now in humanoid form as he turned towards me. Bedrock was raised off the ground, Dirtbag keeping him restrained while he shoved his mass down the hero's throat and pleasured him through his trunks. "Streaky, be mine again or the stud dies!"

A few moments passed and Bedrock's struggling ceased as Dirtbag continued to force his way down his throat while pleasuring him through his skimpy speedo. Then I realised, Dirtbag wasn't trying to possess him. He was more interested in having me for his sick satisfaction. He was suffocating the larger hero, and now he was unconscious.

"Why... Why me?!" I demanded to know. "Bedrock's stronger!"

"Because you're cuter and more fun, fox! You're so much more innocent. Breaking you and ruining your life makes my day, and you keep coming back for more!"

I had a choice to make, and it wouldn't be easy, and time was not on my side. Either I could submit myself to Dirtbag now, or take the risk and continue to fight him. There was no assurance that Bedrock would survive if I shocked Dirtbag, but if I surrendered, he'd probably kill Bedrock anyway.

Streak surrenders... (Non-Canon Ending)

"I... I..." I stammer.

There's no way I can risk Bedrock's life. To preserve his, I'm willing to sacrifice my body to Dirtbag and allow him to do whatever he wants to me. Actually, that doesn't sound like too much of a bad idea. There's a part of me that wants to be absorbed into him. It will mean my life won't be in my paws anymore, and that's somehow enticing to me. At least until he returns me to Manasa.

"You win..." I say, dropping the wire to the floor and kneeling.

Still keeping Bedrock in his grip, the humanoid form of Dirtbag extends away from the restrained superhero, bringing himself right up to me and looking me right in the eyes, mere inches from my face.

"You really mean that...?" he asks with excitement.

I close my eyes and nod.

Dirtbag looks down and notice I'm already fully hard. He reaches a slimy black paw out and grasps my arousal, pumping the flesh. I immediately gasp and begin to moan, eyes still closed.

"Beg for me!" demanded Dirtbag.

"I... I'm yours..." I say, breathing harder as I begin to thrust into the black goo.

"No, BEG!" he yells.

"I want to be yours! Ahhh! I want to belong to you so much! Please take me! Uhhh!" I blurt out, moaning with pleasure as he stimulates me.

He throws himself into me, shoving his mass down my throat as he continues to masturbate me, then smothering my body in his black slime. As he infests me for the second time, I see him release Bedrock, slithering out of his throat. After a few seconds of the painful ordeal, Dirtbag's mass settles on my body in the form of a leotard and boots once again.

"That's more like it!" he says, right in my ears.

"I am proud of you for making this sacrifice," said Falcon, "but I am sorry I could not have been a better mentor. I failed you."

Sadness overwhelms me then. "It's okay, Falcon," I think to him while I still can. I'm sad too. "You were great. Go. Find a new Streak."

"I will, my friend. Farewell. I will miss you."

I suddenly feel Falcon's presence leave my mind, and I know that it's over. My old life is gone forever. My body is now a permanent vessel for Dirtbag. I can feel him continue to pleasure me, and it never seems to stop.

"Ah, no more super strength, Streaky?" he says with my mouth. "That's a shame, but it won't matter. I'm sure Manasa will be forgiving." Then he turns to the unconscious bulk of Bedrock. "Except there's no way I'm gonna lose all this cash, so we gotta do somethin' about that."

Dirtbag walks my body over to Bedrock, grabbing him by the horns and lifting his head.

"I think I know just the thing. This big bull could make a fine combatant in the ring before I bring him back to Manasa, don't you think, Streaky?"

I push the hero over onto his back, getting a good look at him. Down below, I can see that he came in his skimpy posing trunks based on the massive quantity of pale fluids dripping from the shiny red fabric.

Though I'm still conscious and able to think for myself, all I can do is bathe in the pleasure, the humiliation, and the complete and utter failure. Streak is no more. All that's left is a scared, naked young fox; a possession of this sentient black slime. I'm nothing anymore, just an object to be used for the benefit of a superior being. And yet, I feel fine.

Then my vision grows dark and I feel my thoughts fall quiet as Dirtbag's mass sinks into my brain. Now I am Dark Streak once again.

Streak resists! (Canon Ending)

I looked at the wire in my hand. It burst with sparks where I had torn it from the wall. It was my best chance. Our best chance. There was no way I could let Dirtbag have me again, but there was no way I'd let him kill Bedrock either. There was only one thing to do!

Summoning the last of my strength, I threw the sparking wire into Dirtbag, sending jolts of electricity through the massive oily monster. I had to shield my eyes as he lit-up like a Christmas tree. I heard him shriek and yell in agony as the lights above flickered from the surging power.

After a few seconds, the crackling fireworks in front of me subsided as the wire finally slipped out of Dirtbag's slimy form. What remained was a steaming pile of black ooze that didn't look very healthy. To my amazement, Bedrock looked fine, except for the black goo filling his throat and the fact that he seemed unconscious. I felt a burst of hopefulness, believing I had saved the day. All I needed to do was check that Bedrock was okay, and then we could deal with the weakened villain.

Then I was dismayed when the black goo slowly began to rise from the ground, still holding Bedrock, but still steaming. I saw Dirtbag begin to shove his way deeper inside the buff bull, and I realised what was happening. Weakened and helpless, Dirtbag was possessing Bedrock, taking control of the massive superhero for his own sake.

"Let him go!" I yelled, rushing to pick up the wire, but it was too late. Dirtbag had forced his way inside Bedrock, who was now standing up. His eyes, like mine not too long ago, were black.

"Eeeaaagh," groaned Dirtbag with Bedrock's mouth, evidently in pain. "I'm gonna get you back one day, Streaky... and I'm gonna keep you!"

I grit my teeth, preparing for a fight. "And I'm gonna get you back, Dirtbag! You'll regret this!"

The villain scoffed. "Oh, don't worry about the stud. For every moment you're not with me, he's just gonna be cumming and cumming! At least until I bring him to Manasa."

Bedrock's body and Dirtbag were both too weak to fight me, considering I still had the wire, so the hulking bull turned and ran down the maintenance tunnel for places unknown. I tried to run after them, but my legs gave out from under me yet again. Before I knew it, they had disappeared into the dark.

"Great!" I yelled sarcastically, slamming my fist into the ground. A burning anger rose up in me. Beacon City had lost another hero, and once again, I was to blame.

"Patience, boy," said Falcon as I slowly wobbled back to a standing position, the last of the adrenaline dissipating. "We shall find them in time. Besides, this was not a total defeat. You can now tell the police about Dirtbag's illegal fighting ring."

"Yeah," I said lazily, not in a good mood, but I tried to calm down. I had saved myself from Dirtbag, but he had taken Bedrock instead. The big hero traded himself for me, and all I felt was guilt and failure.

Realising I was still naked, I slowly walked over to the wall where my leotard hung. I removed it from its place and slid my legs into the skimpy spandex, then pulled it up over my shoulders. Then I quickly slipped on the tight boots and I was all dressed-up. Streak was back, but at a heavy cost. I didn't feel very heroic.

"I know, my friend," reassured Falcon. "But I assure you we will succeed. We just need to keep fighting."

That was the term I hated. 'Keep fighting'. I didn't want to keep fighting. I had been through so much, and surrendering to Manasa would've made me so much happier. But I couldn't do that. I couldn't give up when so many had put themselves in harm's way for me.

I sighed. "We've got a job to do," I said, slowly wobbling my way out of the sewer. "Let's no waste any more time. I'm not letting any more heroes down."