Lucky You

Hi! I love your writing so much!

Can I request a villain who is in love with or obsessed with the hero's sidekick and tries to get the sidekick to leave the hero and join the villain instead? Thanks!

"I'll let them go," the villain said. "If you join me."

The hero's sidekick glanced through the one-way glance, at their hero trapped and powerless. It was happening with increasing frequency and creativity.

"You know." The sidekick folded their arms. "You could just...call when you want to see me. Invite me for dinner. Like a normal person."

"We're not normal people." The villain's eyes were intent, glowing with passion. "There is no one in the world like us."

"Yes, but this special snowflake still enjoys a chai latte as much as the next sheep in the line."

"You also like me kidnapping people for you. Proving my skill." The villain rounded the lair. "I would hardly expect you to join me without a proper look at my resume."

"Uhuh." The sidekick raised their brow.

"Also. Please." The villain reached into a hidden alcove, and pulled out a cup. "I did get you a chai latte. It's cold outside."

"You're a sweetheart." The sidekick blinked at them. "Heavens forbid I get cold during a hostage negotiation."

"Or dehydrated! Raspy cries for help don't translate well in footage. No one can hear you properly."

The sidekick snorted before they could stop themselves, and then hated themselves for finding it funny. The hero would be so disappointed in them.

The villain stopped a metre away, and held out the cup, waggling it with gentle temptation. "I got extra cinnamon for you."

The sidekick accepted it after a moment but didn't drink. "I don't like you kidnapping people for me."

"Sure you do. Gives you all of the excuses to surrender that you normally have to bravely refuse. I had to kiss them," the villain widened their eyes, "they had a hostage! It was for the greater good!"

The sidekick's stomach squirmed, uncomfortable with just how right the villain was. "I thought you wanted me to join you, not kiss you?"

"Primarily join. But I won't say no to kisses, if you'd like to offer them. They're very good for morale."

The sidekick took a sip of chai to avoid snorting with inappropriate laughter again. Bad. Very bad. This was serious.

Except, well. The villain never tried to kill the hero, perhaps because they realised that would cross a line and destroy all possible hope of the sidekick joining them. They never even seriously hurt them.

"So." The villain folded their arms in turn, leaning against the one-way glass, trying painfully hard to look casual and failing with endearing terribleness. They looked as hopeful as a puppy. A very deadly puppy. "What do you think?"

"I wouldn't have made the glass one way. Hostages are more effective when they can see you and plead."

"See." The villain smiled. "This is why I need you."

"I'm pretty sure you leave flaws in your plans just to see if I can unpick them."

"Well, every job interview has tasks."

"Oh, you're interviewing me now? I thought you were going for blackmail."

"We'd be unstoppable together."

"Flattery and blackmail. Classic combination."

"I've missed you," the villain said, more seriously. "I've missed this. When I heard you got hurt..." They trailed off.

The sidekick took another sweet sip of their drink to try and wipe away the sudden bitterness in their mouth. The acrid fear. The helpless fury.

"I'd never let you get hurt like they did," the villain murmured. "You're much too precious."

"They didn't mean for it to happen."

"You weren't their priority."

"Of course not. I'm there to help rescue people, not be rescued."

"Are you even fully recovered yet?"

The sidekick said nothing. They focused on the soothing heat of the cup against their palms.

"Join me," the villain said, losing the casual posture too. "They'll find another sidekick. They don't need you. Not like I-" The villain stopped.

The sidekick's shoulders slumped. They took a step closer, setting the cup down on the table to free up their hands, so the villain wouldn't see it tremble in their shaky hold.

"No," they said.

The villain's expression blanked, protected itself.

The sidekick continued. "No, the hero doesn't need me. But the people around them do. They'd be worse than you without someone like me around, you know that. And I..." It was the sidekick's turn to falter. "I'd be a terrible person without them to keep an eye on. You know the worst bits of me too well. I never have to pretend anything with you, do I?"

"And you want to pretend."

"I need to."

"You want to."

"Yeah. Fine." The sidekick's mouth felt too dry, too dehydrated, all the same. "I like pretending to be a good person. It almost feels like I actually am one, or could be."

"You're too hard on yourself."

"And you are much too kind to me."

"Someone has to be."

"Are you going to make me fight you to free them?"

"I think it will do you good not to hold back for once. Would that be kind or cruel?" the villain asked.

The sidekick didn't know. They flexed their fingers restlessly at their sides, and glanced at their hero through the glass again. So righteous. So single-mindedly heroic that it was almost a fault. Kind or cruel? The sidekick didn't know that one either. Their throat tightened. The healing wounds on their body ached as they faded. 

"Come have dinner, then," the villain said, with a note of pleading. "Blame me. They can stew awhile. They're safe. Have you eaten today?"

"I've been...busy." The sidekick felt a little dazed.

"Yeah." The villain reached out, and took the sidekick's hand like they were touching something fragile, drawing their attention back too. "Let's have dinner."

The sidekick managed a nod. They let themselves melt, just for dinner, just for a moment of something real. 

The sidekick staged a rescue after that.

Denied and locked by Mommy

I'm naked, tied down to the bed by my wrists and ankles, classic spreadeagle. You're lying down beside me wearing a form fitting outfit that accentuates your cleavage. Your nyloned knee is softly pressed against my uber sensitive and ticklish balls. One of your hands is snaked around my head and clamped over my mouth, the other is lightly yet torturously teasing the head of my cock. I'd begged you to tease me until I started crying, and you were too happy to oblige.

Once the silky lubed up hand and the dreamy nylons edge me over and over until I do start sobbing, I hear "Awwhh, and I almost let you cum that time!", you stop touching me, pull your hand and knee away, and start gently tickling me and/or playing with my nipples while my red raw cock pulsates and twitches against nothing, my lips curl as I sob like a baby. Your hands continue to glide over my chest and stomach, and my thighs, if you're feeling evil. The pure, genuine regret on my face makes you wet. You coo at me.

"Shhh, calm down sweetie. You were so close, weren't you? Yesss, my good boy was soooo so close!" I nod desperately. "Yesss, you were so good for me and you didn't cum with permission." Your hand idly glides down my torso one last time and, looking down at me, you notice the regret being replaced by apprehensive hope. You break eye contact as you get off the bed.

"You know what time it is, sweetheart."

The hope quickly replaced by realisation.

"Noooo!" I protest, completely reduced and regressed. "Please don't Mommy, please don't, I'm begging you!"

You open the drawer of the bedside table and take out the small black drawstring bag we both know to contain the cage. As soon as I see it, I start sobbing again and struggling against my restraints, with almost comic futility. Your calm, restrained demeanour is terrifying, in contrast.

You shush me soothingly over my protestations, all the while preparing the ring to go around the base of my shaft and my scrotum.

"Please Mommy, please don't lock me away, please let me finish just once, I'll do anything!" I beg, now with truly teary eyes and a snotty nose.

"Shhh, hush now." you answer. Your matter-of-fact demeanour shuts me up. "You begged for this, remember? You sent me all those messages on tumblr about being my pet. You're not going to back out on me, so close to your fantasy, are you?"

I shake my head timidly.

"That's what I thought. Now." you make a last adjustment on the ring. "Comfy?"

I nod. You go back into cooing mode.

"Goood boy." You slither your body up against mine until we're back in our original position. You pop a few buttons open on your blouse and let one of your boobs out. "Now. Be a good boy for Mommy and suckle me until your cock dies down, then we can lock it in the cage where it belongs, ok?"

I nod meekly and you push my face into your chest. I suckle hungrily as you run your fingers through my hair.

Once my cock dies down, you get off the bed again to slide my cock inside the tight cage and secure the lock. When I hear the click, I whimper a quiet, dazed "Thank You, Mommy..."

"Of course sweetie, you're my special little boy, and you deserve to be treated as such."

By now you've noticed, that not once, did I use the safeword.

You undo my restraints and lie down beside me a third time, and turn on the TV. I can't take my eyes off of the nipple I'd been enjoying. You notice, and lift my chin up. Back to your matter-of-fact manner.

"Use your words, my darling boy."

I blush cherry red. "Please Mommy can I - can I please keep suckling on your nipple?"

You smile, take my hair in one hand and pinch and tap my cheek with the other. I gasp with genuine lust. You kiss me on the lips in a way that makes me melt and whimper into your mouth.

"Of course you may, sweet boy."

You push my face into your chest again, put your thigh between my legs to meet my frustrated, locked penis, and I'm in heaven.

Was it necessary for your stepsister to make you watch as she got ready for the party? Probably not, but you’re not going anywhere are you?