Familiar
by Foci (ao3)
Chapter 1: Day 5 - Creepy Crawlies
Rain lashed against the windows of the West house in Central City, blurring the world as a young Wally West waited outside for his bus.
When a large, yellow school bus squealed to a stop right at the curb, its lights flickering erratically, Wally stepped on without much thought. Barely taking in that the usual driver had been replaced by a skinny, sharp-featured kid with a shock of black hair and an aggressively preppy school uniform.
Then he saw the interior of the bus was completely vacant. That did cause him to take notice. Spinning to look at the driver as the door slammed shut.
Even with his speed, Wally didn't even have time to react or even to sit down before the driver, who turned and met his eyes with a terrifying grin, pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The engine roared, not with the sound of a diesel engine, but a scream of raw, unbound magic. The world outside dissolved into a terrifying, rapid kaleidoscope of shifting colors and impossible landscapes.
“Tickets, please,” the driver, Klarion the Witch Boy, chimed. His voice carried an unnatural echo as he stood, letting go of the wheel as the bus ripped through flashing glimpses of realities. Careening out of control, until it suddenly ran out of road. Flying into a red void of floating nothingness.
Before Wally could even register the threat, the bus floor dropped out. Wally was pinned to the back door by the impossible G-forces of the sudden, chaotic jump.
They were floating in a crimson-drenched void. No ground, no sky, just a bus and a dizzying expanse of red-tinged nothingness, populated by shimmering, impossible geometries.
"Last stop, Wally West," Klarion purred, standing in the driver's seat, completely unaffected by the shift in reality.
Wally, now recovered, slammed his feet down, ready to fight. "Who are you? What the hell is this? Let me go!"
“Rude!” Klarion retorted in mock hurt. “Though I suppose I am from your future. You die by the way.”
Wally pushed past the empty seats and lunged, but Klarion just laughed, snapping his fingers. A shimmer of red light pulsed over the floor, coating it in slick, arcane energy. Wally slipped and slid, unable to find traction for his speed.
Forget it, run.
He threw open the rear emergency exit, shoving himself out of the bus and into the void. Instantly realizing that was a mistake as he launched away from the only thing he could stand on. His body suspended and slowly turned in the crushing, red silence. His speed was useless without friction.
A calm, grinning Klarion simply floated out after him, hovering effortlessly outside the bus, which now seemed to hang like a yellow coffin against the infinite crimson.
“Running, little Flash?” Klarion called out, a cruel, soft smile on his face. “You’re always running. And what for? For a world that will never be grateful?”
He drifted closer. Wally struggled, trying to get a kick or a punch to connect, but the little chaos monster drifted just out of reach.
“My familiar recently passed, I suppose you and Teekl have that in common,” Klarion continued, a brief shadow of grief passing over his features. “That brat of a chile took her. But now I have you. You’re fast, Wally. But I can make you powerful. Truly, wonderfully, unboundedly chaotic.”
Klarion extended his hand, his fingers crackling with red lightning. “Come with me. Be my new anchor. My little familiar. Join me, and this all gets so much more fun.” With a sly grin, he added, “Plus I’ll make sure you live to see your own future.”
Wally West looked at him like he was crazy. “What? I’m a hero, not your pet. And you have some horrible recruitment tactics.” Wally gestured around him at the hellish void the pair were floating in.
Klarion’s smile turned sharp and menacing. “A dead hero, I want to make that very clear, you died a year ago in my timeline, the timeline me plopping you off at school leads to. But if you’re not into the soft pitch… let’s see what a hard sale looks like.”
With a casual flick of his wrist, Klarion conjured a flash of red light. Before Wally could even blink, a magically conjured box slammed closed around his floating body, perfectly sized to encase him. A lock snapped shut with a definitive thunk, plunging Wally into total, absolute darkness.
The air inside the box was instantly stale and thick with the heat from Wally’s cramped body. His limbs pressed painfully against the metal walls. Unable to move, in this claustrophobic little coffin.
Wally tried to move, to break out, to vibrate hard enough to shatter the thing; he even tried to vibrate through the box like his uncle could, but it was all useless. Panic set in. The feeling of really and truly being trapped. Thoughts of this villain just leaving him here to starve to death or worse.
Then, Klarion's voice filtered through, cool and amplified, echoing directly inside Wally’s skull, bypassing the material walls.
"Welcome to time out, pet. It'll keep you nice and still while you think about my offer. Shouldn’t take more than a hundred years or so, right?"
“But I wouldn’t want you to get lonely in there, so…” A faint, sickly red light began to glow from the box's inner seams, just enough to illuminate the horror that began to materialize inside with him. Scuttling red creepy crawlies appeared on the walls of the bow, materializing before dropping right onto his skin.
Chitonus scorpions and large millipedes swarmed instantly over Wally’s clothes. They were larger than any bug had any right to be and slick with an unnatural moisture. Their many legs make Wally’s skin crawl as they scrambled for purchase. They poured over his face, into his ears, and down the neck of his shirt. Wally gasped, thrashing uselessly against the constraints of the tight space, a muffled, frantic sound in the tiny space.
"Oh, they don’t like it when you thrash like that," Klarion cooed, his voice laced with mocking affection. "Just relax, they're just saying hello."
The insects scuttled and crawled into his clothes, a horrifying sensation of living things invading his personal space. Then, the bugs' focus shifted. Instead of just crawling around, swarming over him, they gravitated to his most sensitive areas. They clustered around his cock, scuttling and vibrating against the sensitive skin. Clawing at his anus and crawling on his mouth, forcing him to keep his lips closed tight as they pinched and squirmed. The movement was a maddening mix of itch, violation, and sexually charged friction, torture, and perverse tease all in one.
"They like you, Flash," Klarion said, his voice turning darkly seductive.
Wally was sobbing, grinding his teeth to stifle the screams, desperately trying to swat them away, only to make them more persistent. He crushed one only to have another force its thick body painfully into his hole. He clawed at that one only to scream as another stung him; they swarmed into his mouth and into his throat, choking him. Coughing and gagging, he started to sob at this losing, horrible fight.
Klarion's magic intensified. The air grew sticky, hot, and sweet with a foul, organic smell as larger insects crawled over him, thick tube like bodies with far far too many legs.
They began to secrete a thick, yellowish fluid that coated their bodies in a warm, viscous layer. Forcing their slimy bodies anywhere they could fit. His nostrils, his ears, his anus, and mouth, Worst of all, down his urethra. It felt like they were trying to burrow into his flesh, invade him as they coated his body in that skimpy mucus.
Wally screamed as hundreds of tiny, squirming things wriggled deeper into his body, into his mouth, and coated his genitals with an unbearable feeling of things squirming inside his body. He creamed and thrashed, but it just kept happening.
Time seemed to stretch on; it could have been minutes or hours, every second of which his body was being violated. Wally started to question what he was holding out for… was he hoping Flash would come save him? They were in another dimension… was he hoping Klarion would give up? That monster masquerading as a kid had casually mentioned hoping this doesn’t take more than a hundred years.
Despair started to set in, then a fresh wave of panic at the thought that this would never end.
"Stop! Stop it! Please, I give up!" Wally choked out his voice, filled with panicked fear. "I'll be your pet! Just let me out!”
The insects vanished as instantaneously as they had appeared, leaving Wally slick with sweat, tears, and the sticky residue, his body trembling, hyperventilating from the magical violation. The red light faded, and only the oppressive darkness remained.
A moment of silence passed. Then, the sound of the lock snapping open with a loud, metallic CLACK.
The box split open with a shuddering crack of magic, spelling Wally into empty space at Klarion’s feet. The witch boy towering over him, a look of sublime, cruel satisfaction on his face. He reached down, grasping the collar of Wally's ruined school uniform, forcing the terrified boy to look up at him.
Wally hung limp, shivering violently, still slick with the repulsive residue of the vanished insects. There wasn’t enough fight in him to resist. His panicked mind focused only on the crushing relief of being free from the box.
With a flash of red light, Klarion teleported, tossing Wally’s trembling body back onto the floor of the bus.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, pet,” Klarion purred, his voice carrying the cold authority as he pressed his boot, came down on Wally’s hip, pushing the boy onto his back. “Now, a familiar must be completely loyal to their master. So it's time we turn you into a little flesh puppet for me to store my power in.”
Klarion knelt down, foot still planted on the boy. His fingers finding Wally's belt and undoing his pants.
“No, wait, please—” Wally pleaded, placing a hand on Klarion’s, trying to stop him.
“Quiet,” Klarion snapped.
Klarion pulled free Wally’s cock. The sight of his own erection, painfully sensitive from the insects, sent a fresh wave of humiliating shame.
“Let’s watch you finish what the bugs started,” Klarion commanded, his voice cold. He gripped the base of Wally's trembling erection. “Start playing and don’t you dare stop. If you do, the box will be waiting.”
Wally raised a shaking hand. He began to stroke himself, a frantic, desperate effort. Horrified to find it did feel good, even if he really wished it didn’t. That slime the insects had coated him felt warm and was an amazing lube.
“Faster, pet,” Klarion ordered. He released the base, his fingers moving to Wally’s throat, settling over his carotid artery as he pulled the boy up to kneel before him. His thumb pressed lightly against that vulnerable skin. “Put that Flash energy into it.”
Wally gasped, his hand turning into a desperate blur of motion. The pressure on his throat, the absolute command, pushed him to the edge. He worked himself with blinding speed, his chest heaving.
Klarion watched, taking a perverse sense of pleasure watching this hero stroke himself for his amusement. He choked him just a little harder, watching his eyes fall half closed as his head floated and vision swam. The witch boy’s eyes taking in every little twitch on the boy’s face, looking for signs of the boy’s growing arousal as his hand blurred, drawing him closer to an orgasm.
Klarion pulled his hand away, letting Wally fall forward. "Stop," Klarion commanded. Wally’s frantic motion instantly froze.
A massive, segmented millipede materialized in his hand, the creature wrapping around Klarion’s arm. The chitinous, slimy thing glowed with a malevolent, ruby-red light.
Klarion knelt closer, gripping Wally’s jaw, forcing his mouth open. "Open."
Wally whimpered, eyes growing wide. He started to pull back, squirming away in fear.
“Open or I throw you back in that box for a week and do this all again.”
That froze Wally in his place. Heart thumping so hard it hurt. He leaned back towards Klarion, letting his mouth open wide.
“That’s my good, stupid pet, now let's make you a vessel.”
The millipede thrust forward, squirming its way into Wally’s mouth. Wally gagged, a desperate, muffled scream caught in his throat. He felt the repulsive, chitinous segments filling his mouth, the countless legs scraping against his tongue and esophagus.
"Start stroking again, I can see how much getting your throat used turns you on," Klarion ordered. "I want to see you cum your brains out as you feel me coiling inside you."
Wally's body convulsed as the insect burrowed deeper into his throat. His free hand resumed the frantic stroking with blinding speed, his throat impossibly full, choked by the millipede’s slow, inch-by-inch descent. Tears streamed from his eyes.
The bug squirmed deeper, its last segments sliding past Wally’s lips. The millipede settled deep within his gut, and Klarion released his jaw.
Wally cried out, his body convulsing as he came violently. Obediently spraying the bus floor as the creature coiled up inside him. Barely holding back the need to vomit.
Above his slick, aching cock, the air shivered. A wicked, arcane sigil, a crimson tattoo of a womb, flashed into existence. It sank into the skin, leaving a raw, red mark of ownership.
Klarion smiled, his expression one of sublime triumph. “There you are,” he breathed, gently withdrawing his boot from Wally’s hip. “My darling new familiar. You are anchored to me now, a little extension of my power.”
Wally gasped for breath, his chest heaving as he tried to cope with this feeling. He could feel the massive millipede twisting deep in his gut, sending vibrations through his whole body. The crimson womb sigil pulsed bright above his exposed cock, heat radiating from the mark into his flushed skin. His raging erection twitched harder, not going down at all after cumming.
Klarion pressed his foot into Wally’s cock, getting the boy’s attention and forcing him to look up at his new master.
“What's wrong, pet, not liking the feel of my power squirming around inside you?” He ground his boot into Wally's dick as he spoke, the rough sole scraping against the sensitive skin, causing his familiar to wince in pain.
All Wally could manage in response was a strained little whimper. The millipede coiled tight in Wally's belly, stabbing pain through his insides in response. Humiliation burned in his cheeks, and a crushing sense of despair fell on him. Tears formed in his eyes, still locked on Klarion to keep the chaos lord from crushing his cock more.
“None of that pet. You’re my new familiar! My kitten, we have to get you in the right mindset, and the right outfit for that matter.”
Klarion's eyes flashed red. Energy rippled hot over Wally's skin, dissolving the sweat-soaked uniform scraps. Wally shivered, now fully naked, perspiration slicking his body. He felt exposed, the void's light glinting off his bare hips and chest, skin prickling under the open air. The sigil burned brighter against his pale flesh. Vulnerability knotted in his stomach, making him want to curl up.
Red light flashed again. A glossy red latex hood snapped over Wally's head, squeezing tight to the fallen hero’s face. The rubbery smell flooded his nostrils as he was forced to breathe through two small holes that were the only openings in the rubber mask that now covered his head. The material molded to his cheeks and jaw, sealing his eyes in pitch black. He blinked uselessly, darkness pressing in. Two cat ears poked up stiff from the top. Making him look like some cat-themed gimp.
Latex slithered over his shoulders and arms next, forming a shiny red bolero jacket. It gripped cool and tight, sliding against his skin. The sleeves ballooned into paw shaped mittens, trapping his fingers in soft, useless clumps. While thigh-high stockings materialized around his legs, glossy red material fit snug from the base of his ass down to his toes. They ended in pawed boots, padding his feet and keeping them locked on point like he was wearing high heels minus the heel part. His hips stayed bare, ass and cock swinging free, skin hypersensitive to every whisper of air. The exposed areas flushed hot, contrasting the latex's slick hug. Shame twisted in his gut, mixing with the millipede's squirms.
He tried flexing his hands, feeling the bind hold firm, clawing at the mash that was covering his face, restricting his sight and ability to breath. Frustration rose as he realized he couldn’t move his hands enough to do anything about it.
“Stand up, do a spin for me to see if I like this fit,” Klarion ordered.
Wally froze, body trembling. The millipede writhed harder, jolting pain through his core as he hesitated to obey.
“Come now, kitten, you really don’t want to find out the million ways I can punish you now that I’m inside your body.” Unseen by Wally, the red mark on his crotch flared as his cock suddenly felt needy beyond belief. Precum drooling from the tip as it suddenly felt like Wally hadn’t cum in a year while being trapped right on the edge.
The boy whimpered, unable to open his mouth enough to yell or protest. He jumped unstably to his feet, finding balance on the balls of his feet. He’d never walked in high heels, let alone heelless ones. Being unable to see certainly didn’t help.
Klarion stepped slowly around him, boots thudding. "I like the look, but I suppose you need to see to be useful to me.” With a glow of red light, the hood shifted, forming cat eye openings around his eyes, letting him see while still keeping his mouth sealed.
Wally glanced down, taking in the image of latex covering his neck, shoulders, and arms, his legs, hands, and feet, while leaving his chest, ass, and cock exposed. It was like reverse clothing, covering none of the important parts.
“Do you like it?” Klarion asked after Wally had finished looking.
There wasn’t much Wally could do to answer other than glare at the boy. A hand slipping down to rub his aching cock with a pawed mitten.
“I knew you would, kitty, but no one said you could touch yourself.”
The millipede surged again, twisting viciously in Wally's gut. Pain buckled his knees hard. He dropped clumsily to the floor, catching himself in a kneeling position. His hips jutted out, exposed, ass clenching, cock brushing his thighs. Head bowed low, hood suffocating his face, he knelt trembling. Utter helplessness flooded him, body waiting stiff for the next pull.
Klarion reached down, fingers brushing Wally's hooded head. He snapped his fingers, red magic sparking. Wally's cock twitched hard, swelling with sudden heat. Blood rushed in, making it throb, stiffly swell painfully against his belly. Need pulsed through him, aching deep in his groin. He whimpered softly, hips bucking forward on instinct.
Klarion laughed low, watching Wally's mittened paws fumble toward his cock again. The padded latex slid uselessly over the shaft, no grip to stroke. Wally pawed desperately, fingers trapped in clumps, only smearing pre-cum along the skin. Frustration boiled in him, mixed with burning arousal.
"Present your ass, kitten," Klarion said.
He shook his head slightly in the hood, panic and frustration making him mad enough to actually disobey the little sociopath who was toying with him.
Klarion's eyes narrowed. He waved his hand, red energy coiling around Wally's limbs. The magic yanked him forward, forcing his chest flat to the cold floor. His arms stretched out ahead, mittens pressing down. Hips lifted high, legs locked stiffly, unbent and spread wide apart. The pose locked him in place, ass up and open.
Wally's bare chest pressed cold against the bus floor, nipples hardening from the chill. Hips arched right at crotch level, pale skin stretched taut over his ass cheeks, cock dangling heavy and throbbing between his thighs. It looked like he was presenting himself for some horribly lude act.
He panicked trying to move, but all he could manage was a wiggle that made it look like he was waving his ass. Sweat beaded on his exposed back, the crimson sigil glowing bright above his groin. His hole winked pink and tight, clenching slightly in the open air, vulnerable under Klarion's stare. Humiliation flooded Wally, cheeks burning under the latex, body trembling in the forced display.
Klarion stepped close, fingers trailing over Wally's raised ass. He pressed a thumb against the hole, rubbing slow circles. "Good kitten," Klarion murmured. “But we really should get you a tail.”
Wally shivered, the touch sending sparks up his spine. Klarion rubbed firmer, teasing the rim, making it pucker needy. Wally's hole twitched, slick starting to gather.
“Maybe after…” Klarion freed his own cock, hard and thick, pressing the head against Wally's entrance.
Wally whimpered at that feeling, Klarion's cock pressing against his sensitive little hole. A spot no one had ever touched, let alone tried to enter. He struggled against the spell, even tapping into his power, vibrating with insane speed, but the magic held firm.
Klarion pushed in with a slick little pop as his head made it through the boy's outer ring, stretching Wally’s hole wide. The millipede squirmed wildly, buzzing through Wally’s core as Klarion sank deeper. Pain and forced pleasure mixing, body clenching around the intrusion.
Klarion gripped Wally’s hips, fingers digging into the bare flesh above the glossy red latex stockings. He thrust deeper, his cock filling Wally’s tight hole and the space beyond. The slick walls clenched around him, Wally’s body trembling in the Jack O Pose, chest pressed flat against the cold bus floor, hips arched high, legs spread stiff and wide. Helplessness burned through Wally, his cheeks hot under the latex, body shaking with forced vulnerability and inescapable violation of his body.
Klarion leaned forward, breath hot against Wally’s hooded ear. “Learn to love this, kitten,” he taunted, voice low and sharp. “This is the only relief you’ll get for the next couple hundred years.” He thrust harder, hips slapping against Wally’s bare ass, the sound echoing in the void.
Wally whimpered, pain and forced pleasure twisted together, his cock throbbing painfully, untouched and desperate even as his hole experienced a million new sensations. Klarion sliding in and out, picking up pace as Wally learned it hurt a lot less to simply relax, to let it happen.
Klarion’s thrusts grew faster, his grip tightening on Wally’s hips. “That’s it, kitten, take it,” he growled, slamming in hard. Wally’s hole clenched tight, slick and hot, as Klarion’s cock pulsed inside him. With a low groan, Klarion got close to his edge.
“Beg”
Wally couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why would he beg?
But the witch boy kept pumping, and ruby light flared on Wally’s crotch, a burning need erupting in his guts. The insane feeling of desperately needing his captors cum to paint his insides.
He shook his cat-eared head, trying to tell himself no more than Klarion.
Another thrust and more need piled on. His cock was so full of blood he thought it might pop if something didn’t change soon, and his insides were on fire.
When Klarion pulled out all the way only to thrust in again with an evil little laugh, Wally broke.
“Please!” he tried to whimper through the hood. It came out as a moan, but Klarion knew what his horny new pet meant.
The witch did it again. Pulling fully from the gaping little hole and slamming back in. Reveling in the whimpers of need it drew from his new familiar.
The third time he did it, he came, hot cum flooding Wally’s insides, painting his walls thick with raw magic and thick white seed.
The millipede surged violently, and Wally’s body convulsed. His cock jerked, untouched, as a powerful jet of cum shot out, splattering the bus floor in thick ropes. Pleasure crashed through him, mixing with shame and pain, his muffled whimpers high and broken as his body shook, locked in that humiliating pose.
Klarion took his time, taking in the boy’s ass and the way he quivered before pulling out slowly, a single drop of glowing red cum dripping from Wally’s stretched, twitching hole. He snapped his fingers, red magic flaring. A thick, glossy red plug materialized, its base wide and heavy, attached to a long, flowing red tail matching his new familiar’s latex outfit. Klarion pressed the plug against Wally’s slick, freshly fucked hole, pushing it in firmly. The cold, smooth surface stretched him again, locking into place with a wet pop. The tail dangled between his spread legs, swaying and twitching with every tremble of his body.
With a second snap, the plug swelled in size. Expanding Wally’s hole and trapping the toy deep inside the boy.
Klarion needed all that magic to stay safely tucked away inside his new vessel, a vessel he’d be pouring more and more magic into over the coming days. Wally, meanwhile, was still a wash in helplessness, his legs trembling from being trapped in this position, the tail’s soft swishing back and forth in reaction to his emotions.
Klarion stepped back, admiring his work. There was a lot to do… but it was a good start. Once he was done, this familiar would anchor him to the mortal world, and the speedster, enchanted with a chaos lord’s magic, would rip that brat Child limb from limb before she could blink. His claws were soft now, but when Klarion wanted this latex fuck toy would be a ferocious tiger for its master.
Chapter 2: Day 22 - Fever Dream
Wally sprinted through the ruined city, his catlike latex boots forcing his heels up, toes clawing for traction on jagged concrete. Months of Klarion’s drills had honed his balance, his lean legs gleaming in the tight latex, muscles flexing with each stride under the violet sky. The crimson sigil above his groin pulsed hot, a searing throb syncing with the millipede squirming deep in his gut. His red tail brushing his bare thighs as the heavy plug in his ass shifted.
His master Klarion hovered above a crumbled wall, red magic crackling around his fingers as he watched his pet. "Time to train, kitten," he purred, making Wally’s ears twitch in his direction. "That demon over there? Rip it apart."
Wally’s eyes, framed by the tight red latex hood squeezing his face, flicked to the thin demon across the rubble-strewn street. Its glowing green eyes locked with his as the imps around it scuttled for cover.
Heart pounded, another fight, another chance to fail Klarion and get punished. He couldn’t let that happen. He dropped into a sprint, pawed boots slapping stone, his exposed cock twitching as wind grazed his skin. The demon roared, twisting into a massive bear, as the blurring fast form of Klarion’s familiar streaked towards him.
"Don’t disappoint me, pet!" Klarion called, snapping his fingers. A whip of red energy struck an imp behind a shattered column. It shrieked, collapsing into a twitching heap, smoke rising. Other imps squealed, claws scraping as they fled over rubble.
Wally dodged the bear’s swipe as he closed with it, speeding up his body to blur past its claws. His toned arms rippling under the bolero jacket clung to his shoulders as the mittens trapping his hands shifted to razored claws. He spun, slashing the demon’s arm, black blood spraying the bare skin of his chest. It snarled, growing larger still, fists pounding the ground to knock Wally away. The ground shattered under Wally’s feet sending him stumbling back to land on his cute, round ass. The impact pushed his tail plug deeper into his ass, his tail whipping wildly in stunted protest.
"Faster, kitten!" Klarion barked, floating closer.
Teeth gritted Wally fought down the embarrassed feeling of fighting in this ridiculous clothing. He didn’t even want a demon to see him like this. His lean frame staggered back to its feet, latex accentuating his movements. Just wanting this to be over Wally tapped deep into his speed, launching himself into a red blur. He circled the demon, landing shallow cuts to its legs, ribs, and head.
The demon screeched, reverting to its sinewy form, green eyes wide with panic. It scrambled back seeking cover in the shadowed ruins of a nearby building. Wally watched it scurry away, not interested in following the thing into closer quarters where his speed might be less effective.
Wally squatted down, his bare ass rested on his heels, feeling the millipede coiling hungrily in his gut after burning all that energy. He wished he could hide from the imps peering out from hiding, their red eyes glinting watching the scantily-clad boy. It was humiliating having anything watching him like this and had become his biggest motivator in finishing any of these training fights as fast as he could so Klarion would zap them back home and he could at least be a sexualized pet in private.
Klarion landed beside him, boots crunching rubble. He grabbed Wally’s hooded chin, forcing his head up. "Good kitten," he purred, thumb brushing the latex over Wally’s sweat-slick cheek. The praise felt like a shivering orgasm washing over his body, causing his cock to pulse and twitch like he was cumming but without anything coming out. Klarion had firmly locked away his ability to actually cum, or to even leak precum. Now praise or getting pumped full of Master’s cock was as close as he got.
With a needy whimper Wally dropped to a crouch, nuzzling his hooded face into Klarion's crotch, latex pressing against the fabric of the witch boy's pants. His nose rubbed along the hardening bulge, inhaling the scent that seeped through. Trying to tell him he wanted to go home and get recharged, the insect coiled in his guts was painfully hungry.
Shame still choked him as he fawned over the villain like this, but the hunger was stronger and this was the fastest way to get Klarion to take him home. A desperate whine escaped his sealed mouth, hips grinding forward as his own cock bounced with need. He felt so pathetic doing this.
Klarion chuckled, fingers slid over the latex at the back of Wally's hood forcing the kitten's face harder against his bulge. "Eager, kitten? You want me to fuck you right here, with all these little imps peeking from the shadows?"
Embarrassment twisting in the pets chest. Shameful awareness of the Imps watching, their beady eyes glinting from doorways and rubble piles. But the hunger gnawed deeper, a starving ache in his gut where the millipede stirred. He rubbed his nose firmer along the throbbing length, silently begging for the sex but not here, please not here. The need to get fucked by this villain was horrifying but it was only him and Klarion here anyway and the feeling was hard to fight.
"Such a greedy little vessel," Klarion murmured, his tone shifting from amusement to dark, possessive approval.
Klarion's hand slipped to Wally's collar, pulling it to turn the boy around. Wally let out an internal sigh, but moved with only a little hesitation, bending low, his latex-clad legs spreading wide. His paws planted firm on the ground, back arching deep, ass presented perfectly at Klarion's waist height. Months of training had made him incredibly flexible and had taught him going along with master’s wishes was always the easier path.
A hand slid down, gripping Wally's tail and yanking the plug free with a wet pop that made Wally’s ears prick up in surprise.
Cool air hit the stretched rim, lube and old cum dribbling down his thighs. His cock twitched at the sound of Klarion unzipping his slacks, Master’s thick shaft slapping against Wally's ass cheek as he gripped Wally's hips. The head nudged Wally's rim, and the kitten’s hole yielded. His thighs quivered, slick with sweat, bare chest heaving as he pressed ever deeper into Wally’s desperate opening until it filled the void that had been aching since the last time he’d fed him.
A purr escaped from Wally’s chest and he prayed no one could hear it, face burning at how much he loved the feeling of Master buried in his ass like this.
Klarion pulled back, then slammed in again, setting a slow pace but building faster. Each thrust rocked Wally forward on his pawed toes. His hole clenched tight around Klarion, slick sounds echoing in the ruined street. Pleasure built sharp in his groin as his cock begged for attention it wasn’t going to get. He hadn’t cum, like shot cum out of his cock since Klarion etched this cursed sigil on his stomach and his balls ached for that release tormenting Wally with the fact that it might never happen again.
Sweat slicked Wally's bare back, the millipede writhing wild in his belly. Klarion groaned, hips snapping harder, cock swelling thicker. A choked, agonizing yowl tore from the depths of Wally’s chest as he felt Klarion tense. A surge passed through them both, not just of cum, but magic. The chaos energy poured into him like a liquid sun, coating his insides.
The sensation was overwhelming. The millipede swelled in his gut, absorbing the energy, and Wally’s entire body tingled like a blissful orgasm and like finishing the best meal he’d ever had.
Klarion stayed pressed deep inside the kitten a moment, long enough for cum oozing around his base and for Wally to remember hundreds of eyes watching him throughout that display. Before he slowly pulled free of Wally’s stretched rim. A gush of sticky fluid trailing down Wally's thighs at the sudden emptyness. He snapped his fingers, and the tail plug materialized pushing itself back into Wally's still-twitching, dripping hole, sealing the opening with a final, firm pop.
With a powerful tug, Klarion pulled Wally's spent, trembling body back against his chest. His hand settled on Wally's neck, his grip possessive but not painful.
“See that, kitten?" Klarion’s voice was a low, triumphant whisper in Wally’s ear as he gestured with his chin toward the terrified imps in the distance. "They all watched your master feed his pet. Now they know who owns you."
A sharp, high whine of displaced air cut through the silence, two female demons swooped in to interrupt Wally’s continued humiliation. The lead one had sickly green skin, the other in tattered armor. Their eyes burned with fury, probably over what Wally had done to that other demon.
Klarion’s grin faltered, hand tightening on Wally’s neck. He glanced at the demons, then at Wally, recharged with magic, stomach swelled with the fattened insect inside him. “We could run, kitten,” he murmured, “but let’s play.”
Red chains erupted from Klarion’s hands, lashing out at the demons to pull them to the ground. The green-skinned one writhed, her form shimmering, while the armored one strained against the magic, muscles bulging. “Go, pet,” Klarion snapped. “Break them.”
Wally blurred into motion, clawed paws gripping as he sped toward the demons.
The armored one lunged, a fist aimed at Wally’s skull but it was slow by a speedsters standards. Wally dodged but didn’t see her foot lashed out catching his side with a devastating kick. Pain seared, ribs throbbing, his tail whipping in protest. His ears pinned back, she hit like a truck and didn’t want to let her do that again. He tapped deeper into his speed, becoming a red blur of motion.
He struck and vanished, claws slashing the green demon’s arm, then her thigh. She roared, form shifting to a winged beast, but Wally was gone, circling the armored one. His claws raked her shoulder, slicing through tattered armor. She swung a fist, missing as Wally blurred away, landing another cut on her leg. Imps watched, chattering from rubble, eyes wide.
In seconds, both demons were lined with cuts, ichor dripping from their bodies.
The green one raised a hand, unleashing a psychic stab to tear through Wally’s skull. His vision blurred, the ruined city fraying, other images appearing beneath it.
He saw people under the demon’s skins. A Martian woman with her face contorted in pain and a blonde woman wearing Amazonian bracers. People hid under the imp’s faces too pale and terrified, scattered across a broken city street.
Wally froze, body locking up. His mind reeled, unable to process the shift, unable to trust the dual images flooding his senses. The armored demon’s fist slammed into his jaw. Her fury sent him flying back, crashing into a nearby building kicking up a cloud of dust and broken concrete into the air. Blood poured from a cut on his face, the latex hood half-torn, flapping loose.
The millipede’s magic surged, knitting his wounds but it did nothing to dull how much that hurt. His tail lashed, ears twitching in panic, as he staggered to his feet.
He blinked, staring out of the dust with untrusting eyes, the ruins were back. No hint of the city he’d just caught a glimpse of and both demons were just demons again. One was tending to a deep cut on the other as imps scurried away. Had that been the green demon’s trick? He’d felt her it in his mind for a moment, it could have been an illusion and it had just gotten him knocked into a wall. Or was this the trick. His eyes flicked up to Klarion where his owner still floated above the battle. Head woozy from more than just the concussion he probably had after that blow.
The witch boy cast red magic down at the demons again. Glistening red tentacles rising from the ground to lash out at the pair.
Wally had trouble following the action for a moment, lost in a spinning world as he grappled with the possibility that all his training had been…
“Get out here Kitten!” Klarion growled and the insect inside him twisting at their master’s command. Grimacing, Wally dashed out into the street to just below his master. Klarion looked at him and he must look worse than he thought because Klarion grimaced too.
Klarion’s eyes narrowed as he floated above Wally. “Back in the fight, kitten!” he snapped, red magic flaring brighter around his hands.
His tail lashed, ears pinning back, as he forced his aching body into motion, blurring into a red streak, speeding toward the demons. The green-skinned one shifted, wings sprouting as she lunged, claws slashing. He dodged, his claws raking her side, black ichor spraying from the fresh wound. The armored blonde demon swung her fist, missing as Wally spun away, landing a cut on her thigh. Her tattered armor hung loose, bracers glinting. He weaved between them, striking faster now. Claws slicing the green one’s arm, then the blonde’s shoulder. Their roars echoed, imps scattering further into the ruins.
An opening appeared as the green demon stumbled, and Wally dashed in claw raised, ready to end her, but his hand froze. The Martian woman’s pained eyes flashing in his mind again. Doubt clouded everything, the broken city street and terrified faces flickering back. Was this real? His hesitation cost him. The other demon’s fist crashed into his ribs, sending him skidding across the pavement again landing on his back. Pain exploded, his tail whipping wildly, blood trickling from his torn hood.
Demon or hero he wasn’t doing well.
The demon loomed over him, mouth moving. Its horrible voice grated on his ears but it seemed like she was trying to speak to him. Wally’s claws twitched, unsure, his heart pounding with doubt.
Klarion appeared at his side, red magic crackling with fury. “Useless pet!” he seethed, grabbing Wally’s collar, yanking him up again. “You don’t stop, unless I tell you too!” Before Wally could react, red light flared around them. The world twisted, the ruined city vanishing in a blink as Klarion teleported them away, leaving the demons and their words behind.
That disorienting magic dropped them into Klairon’s home, in the cellar under his ancient gothic house. From one hell to another. Just seeing this room made Wally’s heart beat faster than all the pain of the fight, fear crawling over his skin as the chill of the place settled on him.
One glance at Klarion's eyes told him he was right to be afraid.
“You disappointed me Kitten,” he snapped, and Wally heard that horrible door open behind him.
A terrible, grinding sound echoed in the cellar, as the heavy black oak door swung open, revealing a black, swirling darkness that held no light. From the void, a silent, sickening mass began to spill out: hundreds of thick tentacles, each one the size of a man’s arm, glistening with a noxious, red sheen.
Wally choked on a sob, his ears flattening tight against the remains of his hood. He knew the torment that door held for him. He’d been here before and he desperately didn’t want to go back. His already aching legs trembled with a desperate need to bolt, eyes pleading for mercy as they met Klarion’s. But he found only the unyielding will of chaos in those eyes.
"Think about what you’ve done kitten," Klarion shoved him backward.
Wally stumbled, falling into the slithering mass beyond the door. The tentacles immediately swarmed over his body, a cold rush of violation. Before he could even brace himself, Klarion slammed the heavy oak door shut, plunging Wally into agonizing darkness.
The tentacles were everywhere, relentlessly touching and pulling on him in so many ways he couldn’t process them all. They peeled the latex from his shoulders, ripping the remains of the hood away, then worked their way over into his thighhighs, tearing the tight material. He was stripped bare in seconds, the soft, fleshy horror of them seeking every available opening.
One tentacle, thick as his forearm, slid into his mouth, choking off his scream, its alien skin rough on his tongue. Another coiled inside his asshole, stretching him wide with a slow, relentless pressure. Others wrapped around his erection, ignoring his need while twisting and crushing painfully.
They began to fuck him. A never ending pumping of their vile mass in and out of his holes as their fluids flowed into him. The tentacles inside him expanded, driving past his own body’s limits. His cock throbbed, trapped in coiling tentacles, balls aching under their tight squeeze.
The Martian woman... the blonde woman. Wally's mind spiralled even as it was overwhelmed, They were heroes, I attacked heroes. The sheer, nauseating shame of it, combined with the current physical torment, was unbearable. And the imps, the people watching when Klarion had fucked him in public. He was running around the normal world dressed like this, and everyone had seen him. The terrifying realization of his utter, exposed degradation.
His thoughts derailed as a second tentacle started to squirm its way into his ass, stretching him painfully wide.
What do I do? What do I believe? The questions were a silent, desperate mantra drowned out by the sloshing, relentless thrusts.
Every instinct screamed for him to try and resist what was happening, to try to fight Klarion once he was free. But he knew there was no escaping this room, it would go on until Klarion decided he was broken enough to have learned his lesson. And there was no fighting Klarion, the magic dwelling inside him bound him to Klarion and left him defenseless from the witch boy’s magic.
In a desperate bid to escape the worries plaguing his mind he leaned into the abuse, letting it overwhelm his thoughts and drown out the worry. He pressed back against the twin tentacles fucking his ass, pushing them a little deeper, closing his eyes begging them to choke him and drown out his thoughts. They seem to answer him. The countless mass of them increased their pace and they started being so much rougher. Wrapping around his throat until he could breath, gripping him everywhere so tight he couldn’t move and the ones inside him redefined what deep meant as he worried the pair in his ass and the one down his throat might meet in the middle. The suffocating press of the tentacles consumed him, but at least he knew he could survive that, knew he just had to endure it until morning. It was the rest of his existence after that he was trying to avoid.
After what seemed like an eternity of constant violation, the darkness of the cabinet was pierced by light. In response the tentacles violently expelled Wally out towards that light, birthing his slime covered body onto the cold stone floor at Klarion’s feet. He landed on his hands and knees, gagging on the slimy residue that coated his throat. Trembling at the sudden empty feeling of holes that had been stretched and violated for hours.
His body glistened with sweat and slime, trembling as the latex outfit reformed around him. The paws reformed to capture his hands and feet. The material flowed over his skin, tightening across his arms and shoulders. Stockings climbed his thighs, ending at the base of his round ass, the red tail once again swaying from the heavy plug nestled deep inside his hole. The hood reformed around his face. When the process was complete, the glossy red suit was as it was before the fight. He was Klarion’s kitten again.
But the horror that caught Wally’s attention was the rounded swollen bump in his stomach just below his ribs. The skin stretched over the unnatural bulge making him look almost pregnant. Inside, the millipede was fattened with the chaos magic it had absorbed during the seemingly endless torment. He could feel it pulse and move in there, and could sense the deep well of magic it represented.
Klarion loomed over him. His features had softened, the rage replaced by cold, proprietorial satisfaction. “Have you learned your lesson, kitten?” he asked.
Wally's bare chest heaved as he fought to control his ragged breathing. With the magic of the hood binding him again he couldn't speak to answer, but he didn't need to. He simply nodded, his latex ears tucked in defeat, and his tail gave one single, involuntary flick of utter subjugation before settling limp on the floor.
“That’s good,” Klarion purred, stepping closer.
“We are finishing what we started yesterday,” Klarion announced. “I got so caught up in the chaos and fun I forgot the entire reason we went to that pit in the first place.”
He pulled Wally closer, his face inches from the boy’s own, his eyes glittering with cold dominance. "Do not fail me again, familiar. You’ll face far worse than the loving embrace of chaos if you do."
A sickening twist in Wally’s gut accompanied his Master’s magic as the stone cellar vanished.
They appeared in a vast hall, the air thick with the smell of dust and decaying velvet. A crypt, lined with towering, stone sarcophagi and draped in heavy, faded banners. Torches flickered on the walls, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
All around them, undead figures shambled. Skeletons and gray corpses all turned to look at the pair as they appeared in thin air. Eyes fell on Klarion and his half naked familiar. Wally crossed his arms over his bare chest, shifting to cover himself as much as he could. Almost relieved when they started to scream and flee in every direction. They stumbled over each other, their ragged hands clawing at closed doors desperate to escape the villain’s arrival. Wally watched their terrified flight, his ears twitching at their guttural cries.
Are they really undead? The thought was a relentless circle he just didn’t have enough information to answer. He scanned the skeletal, decaying figures. They looked like they were really undead, he could see right through some of their ribcages, but the memory of the Martian woman’s pained eyes made him doubt everything. Are these just normal people trying to escape us? And if so what does that make this building really…
Klarion drifted through the hall with utter indifference, his boot heels clicking softly on the marble floor. He didn't spare the panicked undead a glance and Wally instinctively followed close, his tail swaying with a nervous tension.
They stopped before a raised dais where a glass display case held an ornate, tarnished silver amulet.
A museum maybe? Wally thought to himself. Taking in the large space and the other daisies which could be exhibits. It would explain why there were so many people here.
“There it is,” Klarion purred. A surge of red magic snapped from his hand, shattering the display case with a violence that made Wally flinch as shards of glass went flying around the room.
One of the undead ran against the flow of fleeing masses. A tall, skeletal figure in a dusty uniform pushing its way towards them, a horrible noise coming from its mouth as it leveled a relic of a weapon. A rusty gun pointed directly at Klarion and Wally.
“Deal with it, kitten,” Klarion commanded, not even bothering to look, his focus already on retrieving the amulet.
Wally tapped his speed, ready to become the red streak and deal with the threat, but his muscles locked.
If they’re people, I can’t…
The thought paralyzed him. The reality of the latex, the claws, the swollen millipede, the absolute surrender to Klarion, it all clashed against the possible reality of slashing through an innocent security guard.
He froze.
The weapon roared.
Wally saw the flash, heard the high-pitched whizz of the projectile, and braced to find out what if felt like to get shot. But the impact never came. The projectile ricocheted with a clink off a stone pillar.
It took a half second for Wally’s mind to catch up, to take in that Klarion had slammed a shield of chaos magic in front of Wally saving him.
Klarion wheeled around, the amulet forgotten for a brief, terrifying second. His eyes were blazing. He didn't look at the undead. He looked only at Wally, his jaw clenched so tight the tendons stood out in his neck.
“I told you not to fail me again!” Klarion’s voice was a low, seismic rumble of pure fury.
The rage radiating from him was palpable. He didn't touch the amulet, didn't spare the armed figure a glance. His hand clamped around Wally’s neck and a flare of violent red magic enveloped them, tearing them out of the false crypt and onto the plush persian rug of Klarion’s living room.
Their sudden violent appearance made the chandeliers above them sway. Wally stumbled, his paws sinking into the thick rug pile.
Fury radiated off Klarion locking Wally in place, true fear sinking in that Klarion might kill him. The witch boy paced the room, muttering to himself, working himself up to deal with Wally. Wally shrank away from him, ears flat and tail tucked between his legs. He felt exposed, useless, and utterly terrified. The fear of being given to the tentacles forever flashed in his mind along with a million other things Klarion might be able to do to him, death probably wasn’t the worst outcome he decided.
Klarion stopped pacing and turned, his gaze looking on the terrified kitten. "I think you need some perspective," his voice dangerously calm now, "on the chaos I'm protecting you from."
He didn't wait for a reaction. Klarion extended his hands, and the living room was instantly bathed in a blinding, crimson light. Wally felt the magic gather, as Klarion chanted quickly, his eyes closed in focus. He thought about running, but knew how much worse things would be if he did. The red light intensified, focusing into a complex, multifaceted prism of chaos energy that formed a shimmering shell around Wally ending all thoughts of escape.
The magic pressed against Wally’s latex suit, making the millipede inside him squirm violently. He felt a sickening pull on his consciousness, as if his senses were being stretched thin.
Then, the prism shattered.
The explosion of red light and tearing magic was concussive. Wally instinctively shielded his eyes with his pawed mittens, squeezing them shut tight. A desperate, choked whimper of pain escaped the remains of his torn hood.
When he forced his eyes open, the velvet furniture and gothic walls were gone.
He was standing in a bright, open courtyard of modern stone and glass. He was still in the glossy red latex cat suit, still unable to speak, still heavy with the pulsating magic in his gut.
Before he could process the new environment, a blur of blue and red descended on him. A large, powerful figure slammed into him with the force of a battering ram. The impact drove the air from Wally's lungs as he was pinned to a solid stone wall, the rough surface scraping the bare skin of his back and the bulging hardness of the millipede in his stomach. The world went white with the shock of being struck. He hung there, helpless, the sudden silence terrifying after the chaos of the teleport.
His disoriented mind finally connected that this was Superman, or a version of him, he didn’t look quite like the man he’d met but the costume was right.
Wally gasped, his paws scrabbling at the massive hand clamped around his throat. Superman's fingers dug in, squeezing just enough to make black spots dance in Wally's vision. The hero's eyes burned with raw hunger. His free hand gripped the base of Wally's red tail, yanking hard. The plug popped free with a slick sound leaving his hole clenching at the sudden emptiness.
The hero didn't pause. He unzipped his suit, freeing his thick cock, the veined shaft already hard. Superman pressed the blunt head against Wally's rim, pushing in with one brutal superhuman thrust. With a wince of pain Wally's body yielded as his hole stretched painfully wide as Superman’s hips snapping forward, burying himself balls-deep.
Wally's ears flattened, tears pricking his eyes as the chokehold tightened. He clawed at Superman's wrist, his mittens useless against the steel-like grip. Each thrust rocked him harder against the wall.
The hero's hand shifted, fingers pressing deeper into Wally's neck, forcing his head back. Wally arched, his bare chest heaving, nipples hardening in the cool air. Superman leaned in, his mouth brushing Wally's ear, but no words came, just heavy pants as he fucked harder, his balls slapping against Wally's ass with each drive.
He wanted to scream, to beg for it to stop, but the latex hood sealed his mouth, trapping his sounds into muffled whines. Fear settled on him, a fear that he was going to die here, the look in this Superman’s eyes said he wasn’t going to stop.
Superman's pace quickened, his thrusts turning erratic. Wally's vision blurred, pleasure and pain crashing together and Superman squeezed tighter. He felt his body growing cold, his mind having a hard time staying in the moment as black spots closed in. The hero tensed, burying deep one last time, flooding Wally's ass with hot cum even as Wally blacked out.
Wally's eyes snapped open. He gasped, paws clutching at his throat, his body jerking upright on cold tile floor. He was whole and the tail plug was back in place like none of that had happened but it felt so real. His body shook like it had happened and the millipede squirmed in him like it was expending magic healing him.
Shouts echoed around him. People bolted away from him, feet pounding pavement, bags dropping in their rush. A whole crowd acting like Wally was some horrible monster to flee. He blinked through tears, the world tilting into focus: a crowded mall atrium, sunlight streaming through skylights, escalators humming empty now as screams filled the air. Shoppers hid behind counters, peeking out with wide eyes fixed on him, the half-naked speedster in glossy red latex sprawled amid scattered purses and spilled coffee.
A green glow cut though the skylight as Wally looked up to see Green Lantern burst through in a shower of glass. Ring hand raised, emerald energy crackling around his fist.
Wally scrambled up. Run. The word burned in his chest. His ears pinned flat, tail lashing wild behind him as he tapped into his speed. Muscles coiled, latex stretching tight over his thighs, and he blurred forward in a red streak, weaving past abandoned strollers and toppled displays.
He darted left, then right, dodging a fountain's spray, the cool mist hitting his sweat-slick skin. But the green light chased him, closing fast. The ring’s light flared brighter and Wally risked a look back. A green glowing blade of pure energy, its edge humming sharp was inches from Wally’s legs. He dodged getting partially free only to have it slice clean through Wally's left thigh just above the knee. Flesh parted easy under the green light, blood spraying hot across the tile in a wet arc. Pain exploded white-hot, his stump twitching, nerves screaming as the severed leg flopped away, paw boot still flexed.
Wally’s body seized, but before he could even hit the ground a second blade flashed, severing his right leg out from under him.
Green Lantern landed heavy boots thudding inches from Wally's head. The blade hummed again, descending on Wally's right arm just above the elbow as Green Lantern unzipped his uniform with a rough tug, his thick cock springing free. The blade sheared through his left arm bone crunching faint under the energy's cut, the pawed mitten tumbling free with a wet slap.
The hero spat once into his palm, slicking himself quick, then lined up and thrust brutally into Wally's hole. Each snap of hips drove deeper, the hero's balls smacking Wally's ass sending jolts up his spine that mixed with the throbbing agony in his leg.
He writhed, stumps flailing weak against the tile, his cock trapped hard against his belly, denied by the sigil's curse. Horror choked him worse than any hand, his body rocking open under the hero's relentless drive, ass clenching slick around the pistoning shaft.
Green Lantern leaned in close, breath hot on Wally's neck, hips grinding deep to bury every inch. The ring shifted, blade reforming, its green edge pressing cold against Wally's throat, right over the pulsing vein. The hero's free hand clamped Wally's thigh, holding him split wide, cock swelling thicker inside as thrusts turned frantic. Wally's vision tunneled, black creeping at the edges, the blade's hum vibrating through his skin as he felt the man erupt inside him.
He jolted awake again. A screaming noise coming from deep within his chest. Full legs kicked out beneath him, thighs flexing whole in the red stockings, no stumps, no blood. The tail plug shifted deep in his ass, full and heavy, sealing him tight. Voices rose around him once more, frantic footsteps pounding close. People scattered in every direction, ducking behind cars and leaping fences, their faces pale blurs of terror as they fled the parking lot where Wally lay sprawled on cracked asphalt. Engines roared to life nearby, tires screeching away, leaving him alone in the sudden quiet, heart hammering wild against the millipede's restless squirm.
He wanted to lay there and sob over what was happening but he couldn’t, he could hear them coming. He had to run, had to hide. But they found him. Then he was downing, water filling his lounge as he was used like a cumdump. The metallic taste of poison on his tongue as his throat was fucked without mercy. A hero's mask smiling through blurring tears of pain. The snapping of his neck but still feeling them inside him for moments after.
The cycle was a broken tape loop, fast and relentless, each second of life bleeding into the next second of violation. Over and over. Eventually he turned and fought. And he lost, dying in even worse ways. He’d kill a hero, his speed and claws letting him rip out their throat only for two more to appear and they’d kill him together. He fought harder next time but it ended the same. The worst ones were when some version of The Flash caught him. His mentor killing fucking him to death left him sobbing so hard the next hero caught him without trying.
He didn’t know what to do, he needed help, needed to get free of this chaos.
When Wally’s eyes snapped open again he was sprawled on soft grass. The park stretched wide around him, sunlight filtering through tall oaks, kids’ laughter echoing distant from a playground. People nearby froze, staring at the half-naked boy in glossy red latex, their eyes wide with shock. A mother yanked her kid behind her, backing away fast. Wally’s ears pinned flat, paws shielding his exposed groin as he staggered to his feet, tail lashing wildly as panic fell over the crowd and they started to scatter.
He closed his eyes, desperate for a safe place, somewhere to hide from the heroes hunting him. His mind grasped for an image; Klarion. His chest tightened, a strange pull tugging deep inside, like a rope tied to his core. Klarion. He didn’t know how, but he felt his master’s presence, a beacon pulsing far across the city.
Wally tapped his speed burning everything; every ounce of strength, every spark of the millipede’s chaos magic to tear through the park at impossible speeds. Trees whipped past, leaves scattering in his wake, the air stinging his bare chest and exposed cock. His paws pounded earth, then pavement, the city blurring into streaks of color as he weaved through traffic, dodging cars with screeches and horns blaring behind him.
Heroes were coming. He felt their pursuit like a prickle on his neck, green light, blue capes, red lightning coming to hurt him again. He pushed harder, streets vanishing under his feet, buildings a haze, his tail streaming behind like a crimson comet.
Klarion’s house loomed ahead, its black spires piercing the gray sky. Wally skidded to a stop on the cracked stone path, paws slipping as he lunged for the heavy oak door. His mittens scrabbled at the handle, useless claws scratching wood. Magic wards flared red around the frame, crackling sharp against his skin. He stumbled back, chest heaving, a whimper trapped in his throat.
The air shimmered, and Klarion appeared in a burst of crimson light. His eyes narrowed, sweeping over Wally’s trembling form.
“How did you get out here, kitten?” His gaze flicked to the horizon, where distant figures moved fast, closing in. “Running from something, are we?”
Wally’s ears tucked tight, his body sinking to a crouch, paws pressing into the dirt. Humiliation choked him over running back to his abuser, but the desperate need for safety was stronger. He nuzzled forward, hooded face grazing Klarion’s thigh, a muffled whine escaping as his tail flicked once, then stilled in submission.
The witch boy’s lips curled, a faint smirk breaking through his sharp gaze. “Look at you, kitten. Starving,” Wally felt the millipede inside him, shrunken and sluggish, its usual restless churn dulled to a faint twitch. His mind let him to acknowledge the gnawing hunger he’d been ignoring as he fought for his life.
Klarion’s hand clamped onto Wally’s collar, tugging him up. “Inside,” he ordered as he pulled Wally toward the heavy oak door. It swung open with a low groan, the wards flickering red before parting. Wally stumbled after, ears twitching at every distant sound of pursuit he swore he could still feel.
Klarion didn’t glance back, his grip firm as he led Wally into the living room shoving Wally down on a large winged chair loomed by the fireplace, the cushions sinking under his weight.
He grabbed Wally’s thighs and yanking them up over his shoulders, spreading them wide. Wally’s paws scrabbled at the armrests, latex stockings stretching tight as his ass lifted, exposed and vulnerable.
Klarion snapped his fingers, and the tail plug vanished with a soft pop, leaving Wally’s hole open for his master. He let out a whimper, feeling like they were wasting tim but also feeling so hungry. His eyes flicked to the windows again, ears straining for any sound of the heroes he knew were coming. Any second, the door would splinter, and they’d find him like this, spread open, helpless. Memories of dying over and over flashing over his mind.
But Klarion’s face showed no worry, only a possessive hunger. He unzipped his slacks, freeing his cock, already hard and glistening. Without a word, he gripped Wally’s hips, nails digging into bare skin, and thrust in slowly. Wally gasped, his hole stretching wide around the familiar girth, the burn sharp but not sparking the fear of he’d felt as the heroes used him. Klarion’s cock slid slick, filling the aching void inside Wally as each thrust pressed him back into the chair’s cushions.
The first surge of cum hit like cool water on parched lips. Klarion groaned, hips grinding deep, flooding Wally’s insides with hot, chaotic energy. The millipede stirred, drinking it in, swelling slightly as the magic soaked into its coils. Wally’s body shuddered, a dry orgasm rippling through him.
Klarion didn’t stop. He pulled back and slammed in again, setting a relentless pace, the chair creaking under them. His hands pinned Wally’s thighs wider, keeping him split open, ass clenching slick around each thrust. Cum leaked out, dripping down Wally’s tailbone, pooling on the velvet. The second climax came faster, Klarion’s cock swelling as he poured more magic-laced cum into Wally’s trembling body. The millipede writhed, growing fuller, its pulse stronger, syncing with Wally’s racing heart.
Wally’s head tipped back, his hooded face sinking into the chair, muffled whines escaping him. The hunger eased. Klarion fucked him steady, hips snapping for what felt like an hour, cumming again and again, each surge washing away the panic. The fear of heroes fading to the background though far from gone.
Klarion slowed, his cock buried deep, another load spilling hot inside. He leaned close, breath warm on Wally’s latex-covered cheek. “Feeling better, kitten?” he purred, thumb brushing the sigil, making Wally’s cock twitch. The millipede pulsed, sated for now, its bulge rounding Wally’s stomach again.
He nodded, ears relaxing slightly, tail flicking once against the chair. The house was quiet, the heroes gone. For the first time in countless deaths, Wally let himself believe it might be okay.
Klarion pulled out, the wet slide leaving Wally’s hole clenching empty. The witch boy stood, zipping up his slacks, his smirk sharp as he loomed over Wally’s sprawled form.
A tentative calm fell over Wally, he still wasn’t okay, didn’t feel safe but he felt full and like he didn’t need to be scared, to be running right this moment.
His eyes drifted around the room falling on the rug that covered most of the floor. It was a sickly green but he remembered it being a deep burgundy. The chandelier above swayed, its crystals glinting red instead of gold, casting jagged shadows that crawled across the walls. This wasn’t Klarion’s living room. Not the one he’d known at least from months of torment and submission in this space. It was close but wrong.
His heart slammed against his ribs. What did that mean? Was this not his Klarion? He stared at the witch boy, searching his face for something off; a wrong tilt to his smirk, a colder glint in his eyes. The man’s fingers brushed Wally’s latex-covered cheek, casual and possessive, but Wally’s stomach twisted. If this wasn’t his Klarion, his world, then where was he?
Tears spilled down his cheeks, streaking the glossy red hood. His ears pinned flat, tail flicking once before tucking tight between his legs. He slid off the chair, knees hitting the green rug, and crawled closer to Klarion, paws reaching for his boots. His mittens grazed the leather, clinging desperate, needing the witch boy’s touch right now. If he let go, if he strayed too far, would the heroes find him again? He’d hidden for hours once, ducking through alleys, heart pounding as blue capes and green lights hunted him. They’d always found him, fucked him, killed him, sent him gasping awake in crowds of screaming strangers.
His fingers curled tighter, nails scraping through the mittens, refusing to let go. If he died here, would he wake again, running, bleeding, breaking? Or would he die for real?
Klarion’s hand settled on Wally’s head, fingers sliding over the latex, gripping the back of his hood. “What’s this, kitten?” he purred, tilting Wally’s face up. His eyes glittered, amusement laced with something darker, sharper. “Scared of shadows now?”
Wally’s lips trembled, the hood trapping his sob. He pressed harder against Klarion’s leg. He didn’t know if this was home, if Klarion was his Klarion, or if he’d ever stop running. But he clung tighter, tears soaking into the latex, praying Master would keep him safe, keep him here, even if it meant kneeling forever at the feet of chaos.