The Telemachus Story Archive

Suit of Control
By Colchian Dragon

Suit of Control


‘It should be…around here?’ Havoc stopped right in front of a large warehouse that his GPS had led him to. Though the building sat near the edge of the wealthy part of the city, bordering the slums, it looked as though it could easily have belonged to the Inner Circle. Multiple droids and drones roamed around the compound and around the building, performing various functions such as gardening, cleaning the building and patrolling. To the superhero, it really did seem exactly like sort of place a renowned engineer would live.

Havoc was here today to pick up a new suit from this ‘Carver’. Typically, heroes like himself could get upgrades or new gear from the Heroes’ Association. As was typical of most of these types of establishments, they tended to take a long time to process, and a lot of experimental or morally questionable weapons would be banned. Havoc himself doesn’t have a perfectly lawful morality. Though he would never abandon someone that needed him, he valued efficacy over the morality of his methods. In the first place, his power was an ability that indiscriminately incited fear and panic by evoking a primal survival instinct from those around him, so he wanted some new stuff to help him out in the case that using his power caused more chaos than good around him.

He walked up to a pair of solid, reinforced metal gates, taking a quick glance around for a doorbell as a panel suddenly opened up in front of him. A green light scanned him from head to toe, before he heard a robotic voice say. “Identity: Superhero Havoc. Meeting scheduled at 2200. Permission to enter: Granted.”

The metal doors swung open soundlessly, granting Havoc access into the compound. They closed behind him after as a muscular drone that had been patrolling swiftly joins Havoc’s side as he made his way towards the front entrance of the warehouse. Havoc raised his eyebrows, curiously regarding the rubber drone beside him, covered head to toe in black rubber, a large blue padlock on his crotch indicated that his bulge had been sealed. Such drones weren’t uncommon in the city, and the wealthy in particularly tended to own numerous drones. This gave away the simple fact that Carver was probably quite well off, though the large warehouse building was a pretty dead giveaway too.

“Please follow me Sir. The Master has been…anticipating you with great excitement.” Though the drone’s voice was hollow and emotionless, it still gave Havoc a moment of pause. The superhero quickly shook off that foreboding sensation and followed after the drone guiding him.

As they entered the building, it opened into a large room with pods lining the walls. Some of the pods had drones in them, some of them were open and empty. “What’s all this?” Havoc asked absentmindedly, not really expecting an answer. “Storage. The drones that work for the Master rest here. We have shifts assigned to us, and when we aren’t on duty, we return to our pods.” Havoc nodded. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to hear. Maybe that the drones themselves were test subjects, or the pods served a darker purpose. His imagination was running a little wild, but who could blame him? He had raided one too many labs in the past, run by either the insane or the corrupt wealthy that had been trying to create technology could potentially be dangerous. As though the megacorporation Tlacetek, which fell under the umbrella of the corrupt wealthy, wasn’t already a headache for the heroes that always had to try and shut down it’s offshoot operations.

Past the storage room was a large hallway that branched left and right. Multiple rooms lined this area and Havoc could hear some interesting sounds coming from some of them. The drone veered left and prompted Havoc to follow closely. They walked on until the end of the hallway where there was another automated door, though this one looked slightly more decorated than those that lined the hallways.

“Authorization required.”

The drone stepped aside, and beckoned for Havoc to walk forward, as he was promptly scanned before the door opens into a long, empty hallway with another door at the end. Havoc looked at the drone standing beside him for affirmation but received none in return. After all, it wasn’t like he could properly discern any expression from him anyway. Without hesitating, he went in as the door slammed shut behind him, causing him to tense up slightly.

Nowhere else to go, he walked forward as the same robotic voice sounded from a speaker somewhere in the room.

“Disinfection Protocol Activated.”

Small jets that lined the corners all across of the hallway began spraying a warm mist into the room. The hallway was fairly long, so it took Havoc a good few seconds to get all the way across the room. The smell of the disinfectant was…strange.

It took him a moment, but Havoc quickly realized that the smell was vaguely reminiscent of a locker room. Musky and husky, and yet it wasn’t quite the same. There was a very unique quality about it, tinged slightly with the earthy tone of oak and sandalwood. He tried his best to ignore the smell, but as the mist filled up the room, the smell that assaulted his nose only grew more potent and pungent. The vapor also settled all over him as well, causing him to smell to be covered in that scent.

By the time Havoc reached the end of the hallway…he was feeling slightly lightheaded. The door remained closed for a good 10 seconds after he had reached it, and his impatience threatened to boil over but just as he made up his mind to punch the door down, it suddenly zipped upwards. He quickly walked out, shaking his head slightly in an attempt to get rid of that slight dizziness he was feeling. After a few seconds, it didn’t get much better, because he was covered in that scent anyway so each breath he took was filled with it.

‘Ugh…whatever. I’ll just shower later.’ He thought, feeling slightly agitated by the fact that he was bothered by this scent, and yet…a strange warmth was blooming in his chest.

“Welcome Havoc. You’re right on schedule.” A deep voice nearby catches Havoc’s attention as he turns his head towards the direction of the voice. A man towering nearly a head over him was standing right beside him, clad in a blue and black rubber uniform. Havoc stumbled backwards in surprise. When had he gotten so close? Now that he wasn’t almost adjacent to the man, he was able to get a better look at him. A blue mohawk, the rubber suit he wore had a long sleeve that covered his left arm that also formed a shiny, black glove. Meanwhile, his right arm remained sleeveless, revealing a sort of blue tribal tattoo decorating his arm. Again, another black glove covered his left hand.The pantlegs stopped just over his knees. He also had a tall pair of boots on him. “Name’s Carver, but you probably knew that since you were referred to me.”

Havoc had all the time in the world to take in all this visual information and the conclusion he arrived at was…

‘Fuck he’s really hot.’

In his slight stupor from having just gone past the disinfection hall, Havoc ended up staring just a little too long before he managed to collect himself and clear his throat. He did not avert his gaze however, and firmly met Carver’s own before he said, “I’m here for my gear. Do you have it ready?” All business. No stammering. No beating around the bush. No hiding. They both knew he had been staring, but his pride and steadfastness did not allow him to back down despite the initial interaction.

Carver smirked. He was impressed. Not many people handled him well, and the hero was… special, he supposed, for daring to meet his gaze and proceeding as though he hadn’t just been momentarily stunned by what he saw. He knew well the dark sclera of his eyes tended to be unnerving for people to stare at, especially in combination with his demeanor and disposition. “I do. I pulled multiple all-nighters just to make sure that I completed this in time for you.” He moves closer to Havoc, gesturing for the hero to follow him. This action allowed Havoc to get a whiff of Carver…

Again...the heady scent of musk envelops him. Stronger.

Pooling all his willpower together, he moved away into the direction that Carver directed him towards, as quickly as he could. Again, Havoc shook his head, trying to get rid of that heady smell and the accompanying dizziness that came along with it.

‘That’s… strange. He smells just like that disinfectant earlier.’

He didn’t get much of a chance to ponder what it meant though as they moved up a circular staircase into another section of the lab. Here, a manikin with the Havoc suit stood in the middle of the room. “Made to the exact schema that was sent to me by your usual designer.” It was made of rubber, the emblem on the chest of the suit raised slightly to give it some depth and somehow, it was a little shinier too.

“It looks…amazing. Wow.” Havoc moved closer, enamored by it.

“I’ve added some additional features myself to it. It’s self-repairing and it can adapt easily to any type of damage that you sustain. It can even fully absorb the shock of impact if you were to say…jump off a skyscraper.” Carver had his arms crossed behind Havoc, proudly listing away all the special improvements he had added to his new suit. Of course, the hero didn’t need to know about the…other stuff just yet.

“How much am I paying for this again?” Havoc asked as he pulled the suit off the manikin, surprised when the suit suddenly turned into a liquid-like state and encroached over his body. He could feel the suit he was already wearing slowly being eaten and consumed away, momentarily exposing his skin to air before the new suit replaced it. His gloves and boots and belt were left alone but otherwise, in a matter of seconds, he was already wearing his new suit. He could feel it tighten, squeezing as it adjusted itself to fit his physique perfectly before settling.

Carver watched this all happen with a grin. Ah…he had been excitedly waiting for the hero to put on his brand new ‘collar’. “You’ve already paid what you owe me hero.” At those words, a black collar with a blue rim formed over Havoc’s neck, formed as rubber from the neck of his suit suddenly thickened and detached itself to create it. The material shifts into leather as the buckle turns to metal, locking in place. At the same time, a leather blindfold with a pattern similar to the tattoo’s on Carver’s arm forms itself over Havoc’s eyes and fastens itself over his head. This causes him to react as he immediately reached up with his hands to grip the collar in surprise, tugging at it forcefully to try and rip it off. “You suddenly look so much better, hero. Enjoying the blindfold? That’s my insurance to make sure you don’t use your powers against me.”

“What are you trying to do Carver?! What’s the meaning of this?” Havoc would be lying if he said he wasn’t panicking right now. He’d been so excited to try on the suit after hearing about its new features that he hadn’t at all been prepared for this sudden turn of events. He could feel new straps extending out from his blindfold, encircling his head to form a muzzle as a rubbery phallus pushed deep into his mouth, forcing his tongue down and his mouth wide open, gagging him. He grunted, desperately trying to speak. Trying to understand what the hell was happening to him right now.

“Relax Havoc. Heroes don’t need to talk. Stand at attention for me, boy.” Havoc could feel him. Carver was standing right beside him, his gruff, whispered voice completely dominating. His scent once again, wafting up his nose. He felt Carver wrap a muscular arm around him from behind, pulling him against his large torso. Havoc let out a muffled roar, immediately trying to put some distance between them by attempting to wiggle out of his grasp.

Despite Carver’s large build, Havoc was strong. “MMRRRPGHHHH!!!!!” Since he wasn’t restrained, the hero was doing everything he could to try and get free right now. He wouldn’t be taken down like this. He refused to go down without a fight. He tried to elbow Carver, kick at his legs, and even stomp on his feet.

‘He’s definitely a feisty one.’ Carver thought as he felt an elbow strike his gut and force the air out of him. He was forced to let go of Havoc but used some of the momentum from doubling over to push Havoc over onto the ground. Instinctively, Havoc held his arms out to break his fall, panting heavily on his knees. It took a great deal of effort on his part to break free from Carver’s grasp since he was considerably smaller. He knew the next time he was in Carver’s grasp, escape wouldn’t be so easy, so he quickly diverted his attention to trying to pull the collar off himself.

Carver scoffed as he quickly recovered, reaching down to his bulge, his rubber suit parted and allowed him to pull his jockstrap free from his body. A wet, slightly discolored, dirtied blue jockstrap. One he had worn for a few weeks, through the entire duration of time that he had been working on Havoc’s special ‘accessory’. He pounced on Havoc, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling the hero upright and backwards. Without any warning, he shoved the wet strap against the hero’s face. According to his ‘sources’, Havoc had a particular kink for the scent of musk. The hero kept it well hidden of course, but a few people were well aware of the fact that he never washed his hero suit. He could feel the hero’s body freeze up suddenly, before he began thrashing around with renewed vigor. Grunting and roaring. Carver could practically hear the muffled obscenities that were being shouted at him, even if they were just incoherent groans. Still, he kept his grip firm on the hero, and his jockstrap tightly pressed against his nose.

Fortunately, since he had formed the muzzle over Havoc, the hero had no choice but to breathe in through his nose. Eventually, he could feel the hero’s muscled body slacken…and he heard something that made him smile with pride.

A soft almost inaudible moan.

Carver looked over the hero’s body, noticing the massive erection that the hero was sporting under his skintight suit. He leaned close to the hero’s ear, nibbling on it. His warm mouth and saliva causing Havoc’s entire body to twitch in response. He twisted again, but there was a very noticeable decline in his fervor and strength from earlier. “Good boy. This smell makes you weak, doesn’t it? That’s good. It is exactly as it should be then.” He slowly slid his arm down, loosening the grip that he had around Havoc’s neck, confident that the hero could no longer put up a good fight. Not anymore anyway. He let his palm run over the hero’s chest, abdomen until finally it settled on his crotch. He stroked Havoc’s crotch a few times…before a black padlock forms over where his palm was. The blatant erection disappears as it was transformed into a null bulge and the red of Havoc’s suit turns blue, matching Carver’s color scheme. The black accent and the yellow of his ‘H’ emblem remained the same, and yet it was clearly a mockery of Havoc’s original design. He was no longer wearing his colors, but Carver’s colors.

Carver willed away the blindfold then, meeting a pair of bright yellow eyes, clouded by lust. “Heh~. Have a good look at yourself boy.”

Havoc’s eye slowly wandered away from his captor’s face, as he finally got a good look at himself. Kneeling, his torso forced backwards at an angle as he leaned against Carver for support. A black padlock symbol on his bulge forcing him to feel an intense pressure on his erection as his need for release was essentially denied and finally, no longer wearing his own colors. Such a sudden change shook his faith in himself.

When his eyes met with Carver’s again, they held desperation. He wanted mercy. He was pleading, especially with that gaze of helplessness. He wanted to escape…but the scent he was breathing in right now…it occupied every part of his mind, preventing him from formulating any plans and filling his thoughts with only Carver.

However, that was for naught, because that expression only let Carver know that his plans were coming to fruition. Still smiling, he leaned down to kiss Havoc right over the gag, momentarily removing the jockstrap from his face to do so. “For your information, I could easily have bound you. This is just to show you that no matter how you struggle. You won’t be able to escape from me. Ever.”

With those final words, Havoc suddenly felt his body move, as his arms moved behind his back as rubbery ropes seemed to form from his own suit to secure his wrists together. His body was moving to the whims of Carver, who fully controlled his body within the suit. A few seconds later, he was locked up in an extremely tight hogtie. Grunting and moaning as he writhed helplessly on the ground, glaring at Carver. Though when he was like this…it wasn’t as though it was easy to look threatening.

“Oh…and one last thing Havoc.” Carver knelt and held the jockstrap against his face…the gag opened up and swallowed the jockstrap in, dutifully stuffing it into Havoc’s mouth and readjusting size of the phallic plug to keep it firmly stuck in there. “There we go! Good boy!” Carver pat Havoc’s head of hair, speaking condescendingly, knowing full well it’d only hurt the hero’s pride and ego since he couldn’t do a damn thing about it right now. “Anyways, I have a little bit of work to get through downstairs, but I’ll make sure to come back for you later. Try to enjoy yourself a little, because our time together has only just begun.”

Seductive and ominous, Carver left Havoc grunting and struggling on the second floor of the lab. Confused, enraged…and yet…unable to clear his mind of the mental image of Carver. Unable to forget the timbre of his voice. It’s the smell…it’s the jockstrap in my mouth…it’s the taste that’s forcing me to obsess over him this way.

Repeatedly, the hero, like a mantra, tried to deny his own enjoyment. Even as his locked cock strained painfully, unable to find release.

‘Ungh…please…someone. Help me.’ He thought, as the struggling eventually tired him out. He felt his eyes slowly closing, but even in that moment, Carver remained in his mental landscape, already slowly imprinting himself as a part of the hero as something in him broke, releasing desires that had long been hidden and repressed.