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Blackguard

Story by Limewah

Commission for Sanmer

18+

Paladin didn't feel like he was 'off the clock' just yet, even though he'd changed back into his street clothes. Or, more accurately, re-revealed his street clothes. The tight tank top and leggings had been hidden underneath the illusory suit. He didn't exactly want to go out to fight crime naked, not that anyone would ever know.

In any case, he still needed to get back to privacy before he could properly relax. He hurried home, practically power-walking to keep his adrenaline and momentum up.

Nothing made Paladin feel more at ease after a long assignment than a hot shower. They were prolonged affairs; by the time he finished, the bathroom would be thick with hot steam. The unicorn's skin and hair was always smooth and soft and downy by the time he got out and wicked himself clean. His powers did the trick for that. As his shortened horn gleamed purple, A phalanx of brushes and towels, composed of hard light, had him dried in seconds. It sort of served as part of his cool-down; using his powers for a simple, mundane purpose was a nice way to cap things off, after having used them for more violent purposes.

It was a shame he didn't have anyone to show himself off to, like this.

If he had a partner or a fuck-buddy, now would be the perfect time to call them over. But, oh well.

Once he was finished, Paladin headed straight for his slightly-too-firm couch to plop down and watch some mind-numbing TV while working on his tired muscles.

The channel was set to the news, a besuited stoat speaking directly into the camera with a slightly severe, concerned look on his face.

Paladin was about to change the channel; he assumed it was going to be about the crimes he'd foiled that day, and wasn't particularly interested in seeing what was said. He didn't have an ego like some of his 'co-workers' did.

"-Evidence at the scene suggests this was the work of a new villain referring to himself as 'Blackguard'."

That name kept Paladin watching as he massaged his crossed ankles. An image from behind the stoat was superimposed on the screen as they continued.

Momentum was sprawled out, his face blank and his jaw hanging open. The squirrel's brown body was pixellated; there were no hints of blood, but he was very clearly naked.

"We've had to censor the imagery due to the graphic nature, but it does appear that the criminal left Momentum in a compromised position overnight. Momentum is in a stable condition now, but appears to have no memory of what happened."

"Like..." there he was, dazed, panting, and unable to suppress a smile. "When I try to think about it, I just feel kinda... sore. In a good way. But I think I'll get 'em next time."

"The calling card left at the scene," the anchor continued, "Features the symbol of the Blackguard. This is believed to be the seventh such attack on a superhero this month. The motives are yet to be discerned. More as we find it."

The calling card passed by in a flash. Paladin grabbed his remote and paused it, circling back to get a better look at it. He squinted at the slightly blurry image, attempting to make it out.

'This delicious little twink came like a racehorse. I'm quite impressed. I'll pay him another visit to really break him in.

Love,

Blackguard'.

It was signed with a black ink blot that looked like a finger-print, though rather than the typical tiny lines, it had a small indentation of a hoof-print in the middle.

So the blackguard was a fellow equine, that much was clear. Paladin tried to picture him in his mind's eye, closing his eyes. Probably about his height and build, or perhaps bigger; Momentum was hard to pin down, so it would take a good bit of strength to restrain the slippery little guy. From the name, he probably had ebony fur or a black costume.

On the nose, but this one seemed to leave little room for ambiguity anyway with his not-too cryptic messages.

From the way he struck out at other heroes, he was probably a sort of assassin, keeping to the shadows, picking his targets, and moving in to give them a mind-shattering orgasm.

He pictured what that attack might look like for him; it was only a matter of time before he was targeted, for sure. Paladin travelled in his mind to a maze of warehouses by the dockside. An obvious place for a clichéd assailant. He imagined he would have been lured there under some false pretence, ripe for the attack.

He'd keep his back conspicuously turned, baiting the other horse for an attack, ready to throw up a hard-light shield and block the first strike as he got cover and got a bead.

The black horse would look at him, impressed but probably not surprised.

He would speak with a deep voice - it sounded like his own, but that was just due to him not having any other frame of reference.

"Paladin, we meet at last." he'd say. "I'm looking forward to corrupting you."

Maybe he'd already be grabbing his crotch through his tight, form fitting outfit. Perhaps his arousal and libido powered his speed and stamina. It would probably give him too much momentum, easily redirected.

They'd fight brutally and desperately - Paladin imagined Blackguard would rely on raw strength. He imagined the evil stallion was muscular and sinewy, his suit tight and form fitting. He imagined locking hands with him, face to face, watching him sweat and snarl as their bodies intertwined and wrestled. He wouldn't use any of his powers, at least not right away. Raw strength and physical superiority would be a more fitting way to defeat him. That would give him a bit more of a challenge, making his body sweat and his heart race as they pressed their bodies against each other.

And then, when he had Blackguard kneeling in defeat, it would be time to give him a taste of his own medicine. A hard-light blade would slice his suit open and bare a tight, muscular ass. Easy to spread wide open and push himself into. Blackguard would moan and Paladin would shove his fingers into his mouth to shut him up. The tightness and warmth of those holes - both of them - would only make his victory feel all the sweeter.

And when he came inside him, he'd make sure the Blackguard cried out his defeat, unable to hide his enjoyment.

"Yes, Paladin..." the Blackguard would gasp. "You've beaten me... my life as a criminal is over...! All I want is your cock... please_, please_ fuck me more...!"

Man, he was horny.

Paladin was groping himself through his loose shorts, the heel of his palm tracing the long arc of his erection. A small pale stain marked the tip of his cock.

He didn't even realise he was doing it. The news had moved on to the weather. He didn't look at the screen for long, aside from briefly imagining what the cute feline twink would look like naked, with the Blackguard's calling card splayed on his quivering body.

Or him kneeling, naked, nubile and thankful for being saved from that villain. Eager to do whatever he asked. So he'd fish his cock out and slip it into his waiting, moaning mouth-

What was getting into him?!

It wasn't the first time some intrusive horny thoughts had invaded his mind, especially after a long shower and a long day's patrol. Best thing to do was get rid of it. He turned off the television, trying not to let that cute weatherman linger in his mind.

It was much easier said than done.

He still saw the young man behind his eyelids, the cat's eyes fluttering, his mouth hanging open as he masturbated at the sight of Paladin's beautiful body.

Paladin was swinging a pocketwatch in front of the cat's face, too. A little kink he'd picked up at some point - or rather, one that just slipped into his mind today, fully formed. There was something about having that absolute power over someone.

The watch, made of that same shimmering hard light, swung to and fro on its chain in a perfect illusory arc. The cat's head dipped low and he yawned, trying to follow it as best he could, though his head grew heavier and heavier...

The yawn sounded a lot like Paladin's. Likely due to the fantasy more than anything.

Though as he stroked, and as his hips bucked, Paladin began to picture himself in the cat's place. Kneeling, desperate and defeated, following the slow swing, the soft tick tick tick and allowing himself to float on the waves...

The cat was gone. He was kneeling. The watch was swinging. But there was someone else holding it, now. A silhouette, slender, short and white-furred. Two black holes over a wide smile.

The voice above him spoke, but it wasn't his own voice. Unfamiliar, but unmistakable. He'd heard this voice... somewhere... be...f..or...e.....

Paladin snapped back to reality.

He was splayed out on his couch, one leg draped over the side and the other up on the arm rest. Semen was draped over his body. He was breathing heavily, his dick still tingling, the warm safety blanket of an orgasm settling over him.

His body felt a little sore, too, like the morning after an intense workout.

He snorted through his nose and shook his head, taking a moment to re-combulate himself. He'd have to go for another shower to clean up this mess.

He sat up slowly, stiffly, almost going head-first into one of his projections.

It was a swinging watch, the one from his dream.

It was nice to look at. So he thought he'd look at it for another little moment.

This little moment stretched out into a longer one, and his tired eyes couldn't stay open for long. The pocketwatch vanished, unable to be maintained by his sleepy head. But his eyes stayed open.

..."You're not finished yet."

The unicorn's eyes darted to and fro, but weren't looking at anything in the real world.

He dreamed of the swing and sway of the watch.

The familiar but unfamiliar voice was there again, cooing and caressing his thoughts.

The white figure was blurring in and out of focus, but the watch - and its gentle tick - was there in perfect clarity.

"Your thoughts drip down. Slip down your spine. You're feeling that right now, aren't you?"

Paladin nodded as he masturbated, his jaw dangling as his snout dipped down towards the floor.

"And it feels nice to let your thoughts, and your self, draining downwards, travelling down through your bones and your nerves. With each tick of the watch, with each swing, another bit just drip... drip... drips out of your mind, and down your spine."

Drip. Drip. Drip. With each tick, a bit more of Paladin dripped out of his mind and slid down his body, tickling him like a gentle claw.. He listened to the nice voice and followed the nice watch.

Though a little bit of him wondered what was happening to him, where it was going. Was it excitement, was it worry...?

"Don't worry," the voice continued, "All that stuff is going to go someplace very safe. Someplace easy to keep track of. Just past the base of your spine. Down between your legs. Into your balls. Your thoughts, your self, and your will, pouring and dripping down into your balls. Filling them slowly and gently. Perhaps you're picturing a particular sound. A little gentle knocking glug, like a newly opened bottle of wine."

That was exactly what it was like.

"And you associate that with feeling good, and comfortable, eager for that first taste, that taste that tells you you can relax and unwind and switch that brain off. Right?"

Paladin nodded again. It was filling his insides to the brim - how his balls were able to contain so much of himself, he didn't know. They didn't feel painfully full, but full enough that emptying them would feel amazing.

"And what's in your head, now that your self, and your thoughts, and your will, have all drained away? Just a nice... empty... blackness. Devoid of the things that make you you. Devoid of all those responsibilities, and worries, and morals."

Paladin groaned loudly as he sleepily rubbed himself. Those words. The idea of losing his mortals. His watch-drunk mind loved that idea - what bit of it that was not empty and black, that is.

His remaining vestiges continued to slide down his spine and tug him deeper still, deeper into a delicious, endless darkness.

It was pulling more from the rest of his body, too. His arms and his legs. His mind.

"You're going to let it all drain and fill your balls, and let me know when you're ready for the next stage. Because you're really excited to see what that next stage is, aren't you, Paladin?"

He nodded again and grunted, almost inaudibly. His head dipped and pitched to the left, to the right again, independently of the watch's sway.

"The next stage, Paladin, will start when you cum. When that happens, your balls and your cock will pump out everything that makes you you. You'll be empty. Full of nothing but wonderful blackness, darkness, emptiness. Unguarded, unburdened by any sense of self. You'll be ready to become something else, something wonderful..."

"Yes..." Paladin found the ability to speak again, excited by the prospect. "I want... to cum...!"

He pumped his cock faster, harder. It was painful for him. The relief of orgasm, of freeing himself of his self, was all he desperately craved.

"And once you do," the hypnotist said, "Your other self will emerge from the blackness and take his place. You'll be mine once again. You'll be ready to carry out your true purpose, your true calling in life... As my greatest creation yet."

"Yes... please..." Paladin nodded rapidly now, his eyes going crossed as he got closer to the dangling watch. It lifted up, just out of his reach, and he moaned desperately.

"Keep stroking," the voice commanded, a sneering giggle hidden in it. "Keep staring. You're so close to emptying yourself. To saying goodbye to Paladin, and hello to The Blackguard. Your arousal is the bridge between the two selves - when you get aroused, Paladin, your cock and balls will suck down and suck in every bit of your will, your thoughts, your self, your morals... and you'll cum it all out. Like you're about to do, right.... about..."

He saw his reflection, his slack, blank face, the last vestige of his mind dripping into his dick, just in time for him to -

"Now."

-

Blackguard opened his eyes. As he sat up and stretched, a smile spread along his snout. He breathed in the scent of the seed covering his torso - the seed that contained the vestiges of his other self, his weak, 'heroic' self. They would not be coming back any time soon.

Now that he was awake, the first order of business was obvious. He carefully collected the mess from his body with a little hard-light scoop, transferring it into a plastic container.

Blackguard put Paladin's essence into the refrigerator for later. That potion would bring the 'owner' of this body back once his work was concluded.

Master's communicator was hidden away, behind a well-hidden hole in the drywall in a corner of a closet. As soon as the device was in his hand, he spoke into it.

"Blackguard is awake."

No response. Normally, Master responded immediately. But Blackguard would not sit around and wait; efficiency was key. He waited for exactly five minutes and nine seconds before making a second hailing call, during which time he changed.

His suit was hidden in a small crawlspace beneath Paladin's wardrobe. The 'host' had been conditioned to be completely oblivious to its existence; even if he tried to feel for the seam of the hidden trap door, he wouldn't be able to find a thing.

Blackguard's costume was a one-piece affair. No undergarments. Just a second skin of shining black latex that covered him from horn to hooves, so dark as to absorb the light around it. Making him a nigh invisible shadow.

When the latex hugged his frame.

"Blackguard is-"

"Yes yes! Sorry! Hello!" Master sounded frantic. "I've been having so much technical trouble today, you don't even know-"

"Hello, Dr. Lemarre."

"-And you're early! Goodness, I didn't think Paladin would be getting so horny so early in the evening! Have you saved the receptacle?"

"Yes, Dr. Lemarre."

"Good! Okay, erm, let me see what I have for you to do this evening... Let's see... all right! I'm sending you your target."

Blackguard stared at the stoic, domino-masked bull, and nodded. Freight would be a difficult fight, but that'd just make the process of breaking him even sweeter.

"Will I have time to visit the previous target?"

"Oh... well, I don't see why not! See how well the conditioning you put in him works, but don't spend too long on it. We may need a session or two more for that one."

Blackguard groped his already erect shaft, thinking of that stoat's tight little hole, and how quickly he'd slip back under his spell. A swinging hard-light pocketwatch would sweep away whatever vestiges of resistance might remain.

Then, Master could put a new ally inside his body.

-

Paladin smacked his lips. His mouth was dry and thick, and there was a weird, tangy taste on his tongue, familiar but hard to place. As he opened his eyes and found himself still sprawled on the couch, an ice-pick of a headache impacted right into his left temple. He staggered his way to the kitchen to chug down a gallon of icy water, unable to piece together just what had put him in this state. He didn't think he was that dehydrated when he settled down the previous evening. Not to mention the fact that he'd blacked out for the entire night.

He racked his throbbing brains for any sort of recollection - all he could remember was showering, throwing himself on that couch and sticking on the news. There was a report about... Blackguard?

Back in the living room, he switched on the tv, finding it still frozen on the weather-cat from last night's news. He fast forwarded to the live feed, and, as luck would have it -

"-missing from his hospital bed, with another calling card from Blackguard left at the scene. Momentum's whereabouts are as of yet unknown."

Paladin stared closer.

"After this, and last night's assault of the hero Freight, the Guild has put out requests for any and all super-anthros to remain vigilant and cautious, and to avoid working alone wherever-"

Paladin switched off his television, catching how locked his jaw and how tight his fists were. Righteous anger was coursing through him - mostly at this Blackguard, but also at himself. If he hadn't slept through the night, maybe he could have done something -

He headed right to his room. He would clean up, suit up, then start his hunt. He would not let Blackguard steal away and molest another one of his friends. How else would he be able to live up to his name?

He began to picture an intense battle, anticipating just how he would be able to turn that brutal, vicious, muscular villain's strength against him. To lay him low, and make him submit, give him a taste of his own medicine.

He was so absorbed in this tunnel-vision of planning a fight, that he didn't hear the muffled groans of the stoat hidden inside his closet, enrobed in tight latex, following a hard-light watch to and fro. His self, thoughts, and will dripped down his spine and into his balls, making room for a new consciousness.

Dr. Lemarre wanted to make sure Blackguard had a sidekick, after all.

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