The Telemachus Story Archive

A Superhero's Saga
Part 3 - The Very Touch Of You
By Kyle Cicero

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CHAPTER THREE: The Very Touch Of You

It has been an eerily quiet crime fighting three weeks for Randilor. It seemed as if the entire criminal world had suddenly stopped. In fact it had for unbeknownst to the good-looking hero the evil Barrett Lang had declared a unilateral crime hiatus and such was his power that non dared resist. Barrett had wanted nothing to distract Randilor from re-running the events of their last encounter over and over in his brain. In that he was successful for with no other events to keep him occupied Randilor had been doing just that. By now his emotional and physical inner turmoil had reached a fever pitch. Part of him despised what he now imagined he felt that night and part, the genetic elements in him affected by the evil czar’s chemical creation still felt the residual arousal. If Randilor had only realized wha t had really occurred he might have been able to avoid his potential future but in his ignorance of the cause of these events his body’s assault on his brain went unchecked. He replayed his physical reaction to the match again and again trying to find the answer but this served only to increase his body’s pleasure centers and reinforce their awakened desires. He became his own destroyer for by now, Randilor had begun to experience a series of wildly erotic dreams. In fact for the first time he had awakened to discover that his body had betrayed him by a nocturnal emission! He was running scared by the fourth week and it was obvious to his public that their stalwart hero was somehow showing them a side of himself different from his usual cool demeanor!

By that fourth week Barrett received reports from various spies that Randilor had been acting rather ‘tense’ and he knew the heroic hunk was ready for the next phase. “Got you at last.” He grunted salaciously as he pleasured himself with thoughts of planning the next match. In his darken lair a fire roared late into the night and once more the cold marble floor felt the hot thin stream of the master criminal’s seed. In a far off room a sleeping Radio’s body somehow sensed it and responded with a corresponding complimentary secretion as well!

Randilor awoke early that morning to discover his loins were once more moist and sticky. “What is happening?” He moaned as he rushed to clean himself once more of the evidence of his fevered dreams. He somehow knew that in these night fantasies he was with Barrett and the thought that his muscular body emitted fluids thinking about the sinister fat man only tortured him more. “He is all I despise,” Randilor said out loud hoping in some way to convince his rattled psyche with the sound of his own strong voice but to his amazement he heard not the full throated husky sounds of confidence but the whinny shrill tones of a prepubescent boy. The chain on his neck felt clammy and cold even as the reason he wore it warmed his mind with recollections of Barrett’s touch. A surge of pleasurable charges began to rise and Randilor felt a stirring in his loins as the pudgy body of his foe flashed in his brain. It took all his super powers of concentration to compose himself. “It is only I that is doing this and once we meet again I will conquer this and him!” It was at that precise second his sensory powers detected another drone flying in the sky. Randilor set out to intercept it. With a racing pulse which belied his outward impose clam he opened the message.


Randilor took a deep breath and spent the day mentally composing himself for a battle which he knew was critical.

Late that night Randilor appeared in the same room where he had first tasted a defeat. As before it held Barrett and his assistant. The two men immediately noticed the change in the once smugly confident super hunk.

There was no coolly superior stride in his walk and his eyes held an almost imperceptible tired haunted look. Barrett flashed a smile. “You are breaking apart to things you cannot comprehend stud boy.” He thought to himself.

Randilor noticed Barrett wore only a robe. “What is his plan.” The handsome hero pondered. His mental query was soon answered by his foe.

“Tonight I challenge you to wrestle.” Barrett growled briskly as , realizing his upper hand in all this got right down to business. “I lose three months of no criminal activity. You lose another meeting of physical contest.

Loser wears this newer chain” He said as the assistant produced a slightly thicker strand of links. “Deal?”

Randilor nodded. He was using his mental powers to fight off the strange thrilling emotions he encountered when he saw Barrett tonight. He shook his head. “Enough. I will win and end this quickly.” He told himself.

“Good then let us dress or rather undress for battle.” Barrett replied as he took off his robe.

Randilor was amazed to see the wily fiend wore only a small brief. His enormously fat body was a sea of fleshy folds. Compared to Randilor’s sculpted torso their difference was striking yet…was Randilor experiencing arousal at the sight of it?

“Give him his match togs.” Barrett croaked to his assistant who walked to the handsome crime fighter with an equally skimpy pair of briefs.

“You want me in this!” Randilor said in shock.

“I want a fair contest with no hidden devices in clothes.” Barrett replied authoritatively . “Either you comply or forfeiture.Your call.”

Randilor stood silent for a second. He knew his answer. It was outrageous to think he would wear such a skimpy rag in their match. The thought of how he would look and the close contact of their entire bodies filled him with…..what?

“I said do you agree. Answer me.” Barrett yelled in a commanding voice that flooded Randilor’s brain.

Randilor had never heard such a haughty tone from his foe. Did Barrett think he could intimidate him. And yet hearing his enemy’s dominating tone was somewhat…..exciting? “No I will decline this farcical getup,” he resolved inwardly. He looked at Barrett and tried to settle his mind but seeing the rotund body in front of him only reignited the racing emotions in his frame.

As he dealt with the conflicting threads in him there arose thoughts of the match’s close bodily contacts. His hard muscles enveloped by Barrett’s fatty softness. The yielding of it. He heard his foe ask once more in an even sharper voice of “Agreed?”

To Randilor’s amazement he heard his own voice eagerly reply, “Oh yes!”

Barrett smiled. In point of fact they had not agreed on any clothing for this match and Randilor had every right to reject the demand out of hand but , Randilor had submitted and , judging by the amazed look on his opponent’s handsome face, his submission had surprised him as well.

Randilor flushed with shame. He was a sea of confusion as he briskly disrobed and dressed in the briefs. The tight material cling to his meaty round buttocks emphasizing their round globes even as the front showed off Randilors’ hefty basket. The chiseled defined body of the super-hero was a study in physical perfection. Barrett had to admit the hero was a tasty morsel and ….was the hapless hero’s manhood just a touch stiff?

Randilor stood in front of his nemesis. He felt degraded and embarrassed….yet something else as well. He could see the smirking assistant gazing at him and the lustful heat the two gave off as they glanced over his barely covered body. He quietly took off the chain on his neck and handed it to the young assistant. “Let us start.” He said as he moved toward the corpulent foe.

“It has begun for some time,” Barrett rasped as the two unlikely bodies made contact.

The assistant sighed and settled in a chair. He had injected Barrett with a massive shot of the chemical. He wondered where it would all lead. But soon his reveries were ended. The contest was too fascinating to ignore.

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